The Soul Chronicles #3: Angel Investigations
by Hardra61
Summary: Angel/The X-files, Alternate Universe. It's 2043; Angel Investigations is just starting up again, Scully is busy with just about everything, Angel is trying to recruit, and in the midst of all this chaos, dangerous Basilisks are attacking people. Book 3 (


The Soul Chronicles: #3 Angel Investigations  
  
By Hardra6  
  
Feedback: hardra6@yahoo.com   
  
Posting notice: anywhere and everywhere, just keep all the notes   
on it. (To find the previous books go to my web page,   
www.hardra6.com or find them at fanfiction.net under the pen   
name Hardra6.)  
  
Disclaimer: 100% disclaimed, but Topps is *SO* MINE!  
  
Classification: XF/Angel Crossover, series, Scully/Angel,   
Scully/Mulder Alternative Universe (sorta)  
  
Genre: Drama and/or Action/Adventure  
  
Rating: R for violence and language. *  
  
Summary: Angel Investigations is starting up again; Scully is   
busy with just about everything, Angel is Angel, and in the   
midst of confusion--dangerous basilisks are attacking innocent   
people. Book Three; Angel/XF, alternative universe  
  
A/N: Hi again, sorry this one took so long, but school became   
time-demanding (ie, no writing during school week! Says mom)   
and besides that I was struggling through the plot. Mysteries   
aren't my thing--complex plots, neither. But watch for   
foreshadowing to future books! Fun fun. Anyway, it's been a   
while since you've seen one of these and I hope you enjoy it!   
  
Go to my web page www.hardra6.com read all my junk  
  
* You see, I tried to talk to Mulder to get him to stop cussing so   
I could make this PG....but he yelled "FUCK OFF". I take it   
that's a no.   
  
  
Thanks again to Gal8028......this one's for you, too.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
**^**^**^**^**  
  
  
The darkness covered the woods.   
  
The sparse display of trees through the small forest seemed to be   
enveloped in the calm, cool blackness that came inevitably at   
the end of the day; not even the creatures in the woods dared to   
leave their hiding spots in the dark hours. And yet, a campfire   
burned in the midst of the blackness, making it even darker than   
it actually was.   
  
Gregory Jive huddled closer to the makeshift fire and rubbed his   
hands along his arms. He checked over his shoulder to see if   
Angelica was back yet with the fresh logs; she wasn't. He   
shuddered at the thought that soon she would come back and   
then it would be *his* turn to trek out into the creepy--very   
creepy--night.   
  
Anxious for something to do, the young scientist picked up his   
notepad and a small vile of dirt that lay across it. The firelight   
hardly illuminated the contents of the shiny flask and so he   
dropped it to the ground in frustration. Why did I agree to   
this stupid field test anyway? he wondered, grumbling to   
himself and surrendering by placing his chin on his hand and his   
elbow on his knee.   
  
"ANGELICA!" He yelled to the darkness, annoyed.   
  
Behind him, and oblivious to him, a long, scaled tail with a   
serrated ridge on its spine slipped past the log that he sat on. It   
vanished a second later.   
  
Gregory brushed his hand through his mass of orange-red hair,   
then touched his face. He noted the coldness of his hands and   
reached them towards the fire. "ANGELICA!"  
  
"Hold onta yer ass, I'm getting there," came the faint reply from   
the woodlands. Gregory kicked the dusty ground, the ground   
that was supposed to be a large, blank desert, and sighed.   
  
His Senior year at Vade County high school had been a   
complete waste of time. Especially this--this field test that he   
and his partner were doing, just to figure out how a bunch of   
freaking trees showed up in the middle of the freaking desert.   
He had more important things to do.   
  
Snap. Snap.  
  
A scream.  
  
Gregory was on his feet in seconds, looking around aimlessly   
for the source of the scream. Where was she? She must have   
fallen or something, or seen a snake, or.....or.......  
  
Or she could have been attacked by a monster of some sort.   
  
Picking up a flashlight, he yelled "Angie? Where are you?" and   
headed in the direction in which she'd disappeared. Yes, a   
monster was a possibility. Few, scratch that, no people knew   
about Gregory's other half; the half that believed. The half that   
yearned for adventure and danger and......well......maybe not   
danger.   
  
"Angelica?!" Greg yelled to the darkness, stumbling on an   
upturned tree root. "Hey?!" He hurried on. Her flashlight should   
be on, shouldn't it? It had to be somewhere.   
  
Of course, she was somewhere. He found her.   
  
Stumbling over another root, the lanky redhead tumbled head   
over heels down a sharp incline, landing with a groan against a   
sharp rock. His hand flew to his face and he groaned, sitting up   
and finding his flashlight.   
  
He looked around. "Angie?" He shone the flashlight towards the   
stone he'd just hit. It was large, about as large as a person.   
  
In fact, it looked a lot like Angelica.  
  
He shone the light towards the top of the stone; past the stone   
shirt and the stone logs he'd hit his head on.  
  
It looked a whole lot like Angelica.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Soul Chronicles  
  
Book Three: Angel Investigations  
  
  
**^**^**^**^**^**^**  
Vade, Arizona, 2043  
**^**^**^**^**^**^**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter One  
  
  
"I *HATE* YOU!!"  
  
SLAM.  
  
I looked up from the morning newspaper in order to catch the   
rest of the original conversation. Heh. Original my ass. That   
would be the third time this week.  
  
I watched the short red-haired woman grab the door and yank it   
open, shouting "MULDER!" and snatching his black jacket in   
both her fists, fighting him back into my apartment. Oh, how   
fun these Sunday morning meetings at my place are.   
  
I watched, void of any emotion, as he clawed at her face and she   
grabbed both his hands. Luckily, I guess, he didn't have any   
weapons this time. I could still see the long scar down Dana's   
left arm where he'd lashed out with a broken bottle yesterday.   
  
Finally everything seemed to end when she got both of his   
hands pinned down. After a minute he calmed down, and after   
another minute she led him over and sat him down on my couch.   
I won't say he was feeling emotionally restored--not yet anyway.   
The best word for his condition was careless.   
  
Dana collapsed across from me at my small, mostly-for-looks   
kitchen table and let her head droop to the tabletop. I patted her   
arm, hoping to pass on some confidence. I knew what breaking   
Mulder in must be like--house training a monkey near the top of   
my list.   
  
Finally she raised her head. "The ad in yet?" she wondered.   
  
I smiled and folded back the paper, pushing it towards her. She   
looked down and read:  
  
-Angel Investigations-  
-We help the hopeless-  
Recruiting persons with   
Paranormal experience and/or  
A will to fight for the right thing  
Call D.S., 555-3927  
  
Dana smiled slightly and reached past the paper to pick up a cup   
next to me. Filled to the brim with warm blood.   
  
She drank it eagerly and neatly, finishing the whole thing before   
sitting down. "Well, that made my day," she said dryly before   
getting up and moving towards the refrigerator. "Let's see how   
long that lasts."  
  
I looked to the ceiling and thought, Oh, no. My gaze   
drifted to Fox Mulder, still sitting motionless and careless on my   
couch, then to Dana Scully, who took her time fishing around in   
the fridge for a carefully-labeled canister of blood.   
  
But not just any blood.  
  
This blood was 20% sheep's blood, 70% human blood.   
  
After heating the red liquid up in the microwave, Dana took a   
hopeful breath and strode across the room to her friend/nemesis,   
who sat motionless with his arms crossed. "Here, Mulder, drink   
this."  
  
"Fuck off."  
  
"Mulder...."  
  
"Fuck off."  
  
"It's this or nothing, Mulder."  
  
"Then shove it up my ass."  
  
"If that's your opinion, starve."  
  
I guess 70% human blood isn't enough.   
  
As I watched Dana sigh and set about putting the blood back in   
the fridge, I pondered what was so bad. I had switched from   
human to animal blood tons of times. There really isn't that   
much of a difference. I couldn't picture how someone could get   
'addicted' to human blood, to the point where animal blood was   
really that bad.   
  
Mulder had, as Scully has so simply put it, starved, for nearly a   
week now. We both figured he'd be giving in soon.   
  
Sitting down across from me again, Dana traced the border of   
our ad with her forefinger, resting her chin on her other arm.   
"Wonder what kind of freaks I'll have calling me?"  
  
"You could have let me put *my* number. It's not like I have   
anything better to do than answer weird phone calls," I said.   
Both of us stared at the tiny square of newspaper that belongs to   
us. Finally we both spoke at the same time.   
  
"I wonder if anybody will even find it."  
  
"Maybe we should have gotten more space."  
  
We exchanged looks then sighed, smiling a little. Finally Dana   
stretched her arms and picked up a brown folder sitting on the   
counter. She opened it and it was my turn to be interested.   
  
"Angel," she said, "what do you think about _this_ place? I   
mean, I remember hearing you say you like the apartment   
complex connected to the office building, but here the apartment   
is only one block away from a really great office. Check this   
out--three bedroom suite, two baths, large living room and high   
ceiling--" she paused, looking over some notes. "And hey, it's   
even at basement level. Maybe there's an access across the street   
to the office from below. I'll have to call." She clicked her pen   
on and began writing furiously.   
  
"You could leave the paperwork to me, you know," I suggested   
meekly. Meekly is just about the only way you can suggest to a   
girl like her. I mean, if she can tame an ex-creature-of-the-night   
then you don't exactly want to force issues on her.   
  
"I can handle it myself," she insisted. "Besides, when's the last   
time you started a business and moved it to Los Angeles all on   
your own?"  
  
I didn't really have an answer. I wish I did. I hate denying things   
to beautiful women. Which is exactly what Dana Scully was.   
  
If only she were mine. Three weeks ago, she was. For a while.   
For a very short while. But things change, Angel, as I've told   
myself for many years now, things change and people change.   
But still.....she was so beautiful......  
  
And I knew she liked me. Loved even, maybe. But there was   
one reason why our expanding relationship had been suddenly   
cut to pieces; and he was sitting on my couch, wishing   
desperately that he was a million miles away from her.  
  
But love hurts. I've learned that. Sometimes it's best not to try.  
  
As I snapped out of it, hearing her slightly bored voice reading   
over extensive notes on what would probably be my new   
apartment, She leaned in towards me and drilled holes in me   
with her steel blue eyes. "Angel. Are you listening to a word I'm   
saying?"  
  
"Um," I came up with, "yeah. Yes. Sounds nice."  
  
"Being in laa-laa land isn't going to get your business back," she   
warned, rapping her pen on my head. "Listen. The office has   
four rooms, one for you, one for me a.k.a. the receptionist   
because it's not like Mulder's gonna feel all so up to it, one for   
books and one for......one for....oh I don't know a waiting room   
maybe. You can put up all your gothic swords and chandeliers   
in there if you like. The point is it's *giant* and it's *cheap*.   
And not cheap like this pen is cheap, cheap as in it's probably   
haunted or something and nobody else has the guts to exorcise   
it. And you're not listening to me again."  
  
I sighed and shook my head out a little. "You're taking this way   
too.....quickly." I motioned to the vast array of legal documents   
now covering the morning newspaper. "Besides, if we hire   
someone here, who's to say they'll agree to move to LA with   
us?"  
  
She paused at that, shifted her jaw, and dropped her still-raised   
pen. "Well," she murmured. "Well. I didn't think of that."  
  
We sat in silence for a while. Mulder was still zoned out on the   
couch.   
  
"We could always add "Must be willing to travel" at the   
bottom," Dana suggested.   
  
Any further discussion was ended as her cell phone rang, and   
she dropped her pen in haste to answer it, whipping out a blank   
notepad from beneath all the papers. "Hello?" she said. "Yes,   
that's me. You're calling about the Ad? Okay, good, go on." I   
cocked my head and waited for her to hint about something. A   
bad sign was when she started massaging her left temple. "Can   
you...tell me of some of your previous occupations?........I   
see.........fast food.........hmm.........all right, well, how about, do   
you have any references?.......psychic hotline......okay......." She   
raised her hand and made a definite "thumbs down" motion.   
"Yes. Well. We'll give you a call." Somewhat tiredly, she hung   
up.   
  
"First bad sign," she muttered.   
  
Her phone rang again.   
  
"Hello, loony number two," she sighed and answered it.   
  
  
******  
  
He paced his small apartment room with his phone to his head.   
Every pass he made could be marked with something new and   
peculiar; the small totem pole in the corner by the door; the   
bamboo stick coat rack next to an African print trash can, the   
oriental rug and the four bookshelves filled to the brim with   
mythological references. Gregory Jive--Jive, in this world--was   
becoming very sick of the busy signal.   
  
He was also very sick of police. He was also very sick of having   
to answer questions about the ill-fated field test with the ill-fated   
Angelica. He was also very sick of people telling him it was   
some big prank. He was also sick of the funny stares he was   
getting in class.   
  
But most of all, he was sick of being _Gregory_.   
  
Finally the line seemed to end and he was met with a tired and   
enervated female voice. "Hello?" it said.   
  
"Yes, hello? Is this D.S.?"  
  
"Yeah," said the tired voice. "You're calling about the ad. Do   
you have any references?"  
  
"Woah. How'd you know that?"  
  
"Believe me you're not the first to ask that question. You're not   
even the fifteenth to ask that question," she said with   
sleeplessness in her voice. "References?"  
  
Swallowing and assuming that the lady had been on the phone   
all day, he also entertained the idea that he'd had some   
competition, so decided to be as professional as possible. "Um,   
yes. References on what?"  
  
A sigh from the other end. Jive started talking. "All right. No, I   
have no references. But, I can answer any question you might   
have to ask about ancient Egyptian gods and myths. Or if you'd   
like, any of the common religious figures of southeastern Africa.   
How about scientific background, or medical reviews on any of   
over a thousand mysterious disappearances throughout middle   
America over the last twenty years? Your ad said paranormal   
experience? I've fought an actual hobgoblin, and gotten   
evidence of it as well. Any more questions?" He prayed his   
hostile behavior hadn't turned down the offer for him.   
  
"Keep talking," he was surprised to hear.   
  
Jive continued about his research on Northeastern European   
legends and the spare evidence he had on them, his heart   
pounding at the idea that he actually had a chance for a career   
that he would love. Or would he?  
  
"If I might ask," He said after a while, "Could you maybe tell   
me more about what I'm getting into here? The ad didn't say all   
too much."  
  
There was a pause and low voices on the other end of the phone.   
Finally the female voice returned, only not quite so tired this   
time.   
  
"I'm sorry. We can't disclose information like that until after   
you've been approved. You can turn down the offer later but   
only after we've seen what we've seen."  
  
"What do you want to see?" Jive asked.  
  
There was more hushed talking. "Can you fight?"   
  
Another surprise for him, Jive blinked into the phone for a   
moment before saying, "I, well, I guess I could.......I suppose   
so."  
  
More quiet murmurs.   
  
"If you're still interested, meet us by the reservoir an hour after   
sundown."  
  
"--W--Wait, how am I supposed to know who you are?!"   
  
"You'll know. We'll be the only ones there."  
  
The telephone conversation ended almost as abruptly as it had   
started.   
  
"What am I getting into, here?" He asked himself before   
hanging up his phone.  
  
******  
  
A 2037 Jeep Grand Cherokee Maximum pulled in not far from   
the dock at the reservoir, and the arrived quickly noticed they'd   
been beaten to the scene. "If this is a practical joke, I am so   
going to kill someone," Dana growled as she unbuckled her seat   
belt. "I'll chop them up with the ax you threw in back and then   
I'll use them for fish bait in the piranha-filled waters of South   
America."  
  
Angel, in the passenger seat, made a personal note not to get on   
Dana's bad side, then lurched for the door and gracefully hit his   
head on the roof. "Ow!"  
  
Dana laughed and punched his arm. "You tall people, you're so   
funny." She looked towards the disgruntled vampire who was   
leaning forward on the back/front divider with his chin on his   
arms, looking tired and pissed at the same time. "Except you,"   
she offered Mulder absently.  
  
"Someone has to keep up the comedy," Angel said dryly,   
"Sorry, but I mean.....I don't see why we couldn't have taken my   
car." He rubbed his head while opening his door, then got stuck   
in the seat belt trying to get out. "Oww!"  
  
"As I said before, you're funny." Dana unclipped the seat belt   
and he wrestled it from himself. "Glad I made you wear that,   
now, aren't you?" She popped open her own door. "Anyway,   
Angel, we couldn't take your car! It's a 2015 Cadillac for cryin'   
out loud. What kind of impression are you trying to make?"  
  
"I like my car," Angel muttered.   
  
They both slammed their doors and took two steps towards the   
lone figure on the dock. A tapping sound interrupted them and   
they looked back towards Scully's jeep.  
  
"What are you going to leave me in here?" Mulder cried through   
the thick glass window.   
  
"Well you can't kill anyone locked up in the car," Scully shot   
back, crossing her arms. Angel tapped her shoulder and   
motioned towards the now-interested person waiting on the   
dock. "Oh," she murmured. "Ok, fine, but you stick by me or   
you're in a world of hurt." Dana sighed hot-temperedly and   
unlocked the door.   
  
Mulder took time to brush the wrinkles out of his jacket before   
joining Dana and Angel in their trek towards the possible recruit   
on the dock. As they got closer, they saw not the acclaimed   
science professor that was expected--something more like a   
freckled-face kid still in high school.   
  
Dana spent a minute sizing him up; shortish, orange-red hair,   
lots of freckles, grey sweater, glasses......"What's your name?"   
she asked.   
  
"What's yours?" he asked back.   
  
"Assuming that we may or may not be hiring you, we'll ask the   
questions," Angel said flatly.   
  
The kid sighed and hesitated before answering. "My name's   
Jive. Greg Jive."  
  
"You're in high school, aren't you."  
  
Greg Jive squirmed a tiny bit. "I'm a senior," he said, as if that   
was somehow better.   
  
Dana frowned and turned to Angel. "We can't risk him can we?   
He's too young, Angel."  
  
"Hey, I am more mature than anyone else in my entire school. I   
am more mature than most college guys I know. I am more   
mature than, heck, most of the people I know."  
  
"He's too young," Angel agreed, also sizing him up. They both   
turned.   
  
"Wait. Oh, come *on*," Jive complained. "What does my age   
have to do with anything? I'm not much younger than you are,   
for Chrissake! You said you help people right? I can help! I   
want to help."  
  
Dana touched the bridge of her nose and sighed shortly. "Listen,   
Jive, or whatever. First of all, we do not run the ordinary   
business, all right? We deal with paranormal phenomena.   
Dangerous, phenomena. Emphasis on dangerous. It is not that   
we are being prejudiced to your age; we are only thinking for   
your welfare. We cannot hire someone like you just because of   
your skill."  
  
"What else?!"  
  
"Are you willing to die?" Angel said, his deeper voice cutting in   
sharply. "You've never battled a demon before. Let--"  
  
"Hey. I battled a hobgoblin," Jive said, defending himself.   
  
"Fine. A hobgoblin. How about a Vampire? How about snake-  
demons, how about werewolves? Angel Investigations has a   
past, kid, and it's not pretty. Do you know how many people   
have died in my business? A long time ago two of my best   
friends were killed by vampires. We fought the good fight and   
we won most of the time. But it ended quickly and painfully.   
You are too young to take that same risk. I'm sorry."  
  
"--Um," Jive interrupted.  
  
"Do you happen to know anyone else in your...field? Someone   
older, more...experienced maybe? We brought you here to show   
you what this work was going to be like. But I don't think it's   
safe for tonight." Dana opened a small notebook. "Can I have   
your phone number, please? We may have to contact you in the   
future. You are a fine source of information, but you shouldn't   
be fighting alongside us just yet. I suggest that you--"  
  
"--Uh," Jive said.  
  
"--Go straight home without stopping off anywhere; the streets   
really are more dangerous at night than you'd think. In fact, if   
you don't have one there already, I also suggest that you get a   
good crucifix and attach it over your doorway. Here's my   
number; we may be moving after a while but I'll let you know   
about the location change--"  
  
"--Hey miss--"  
  
"I'm very sorry about your situation, Mr. Jive, but maybe   
sometime in the future. We'll do our best to keep in contact. If   
you happen to run into anything, please, *please* give us a call.   
Things are kind of slow in this place."  
  
"Uh, Dana," Angel murmured.   
  
"What?" She paused, looked from Jive, who was pointing, to   
Angel, who was looking behind them. "Wha--Oh God."  
  
Mulder was gone.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Two  
  
  
"Oh, sh......" Dana turned from the boy and me and hurried back   
towards the car. "Angel, you have a stake on you??" She yelled   
over her shoulder.   
  
"Yeah," I shouted back, whipping it out and starting to follow   
her. I walked backwards for a moment so I could face the kid.   
"Go home. Now. Don't stop."  
  
"Don't send him home it's not safe," Came Dana's shout. "He's   
not at the car!" she yelled a second later.   
  
"Don't go home," I told the freckled kid and ran towards the   
Jeep. Dana was getting out an armful of crossbows, all of them   
set. "Woah, you're going to set one of those off through your   
head if you hold them like that--"  
  
"I know how to hold them--"  
  
"Let me--"  
  
"Let go!"  
  
I half-noticed the kid grab one of the bows and check its   
accuracy. I was busy wielding three of my own. Dropping one   
of them back into Dana's car I checked my shafts and hurried   
towards the exit road. It was not far at all to the city.   
  
Dana and the kid argued from behind me. "Get in the car. I'm   
locking you in."  
  
"No way, man!"  
  
"Listen, kid, there's no time to play around! I said get in the   
car!"  
  
Movement up ahead startled me from my listening in. "DANA!   
UP HERE!" The arguing stopped and two pairs of feet came   
running towards me. "This way," I said, pointing with the   
crossbow. We moved forward silently, the only sound being the   
heartbeat of the young man behind us.   
  
"MULDER!" Dana shouted towards the dark rise, "You're not   
going anywhere, I still have your files, Mulder, and you don't   
know where they are," Her words were caught and carried by   
the silence but deadened by the light fog. "Damn it," she   
muttered.   
  
"Is he a vampire?" This kid, Jive whispered to us.   
  
I felt a growl of impatience growing in my throat. I felt my face   
morph quickly into its more demonic form as I turned around.   
"Reality check, kid, we all are."  
  
I watched him jump backwards from me and I straightened my   
face out a second later. He shook his head as if he'd just been   
woken up and then chose to forget about it.   
  
That, I had to admit, was a good sign of a guy fighting for the   
right thing.   
  
"Come on," Dana whispered, and slank out of sight to our left.   
Jive slipped in behind her and I followed as rearguard.   
  
The streetlights weren't far off now, and there were buildings up   
ahead. If we lost him to the city....then damn. "Mulder, stop!   
Now!" I heard, but I couldn't see where Dana was. The sound of   
a crossbow shaft going off snapped my head in the right   
direction. Shoving my way through the blackened bushes, I saw   
a flash of Dana's blue lightweight jacket and followed it   
forward.   
  
I had obviously missed some of the action, because as I looked   
on, Scully had a stake through her calf and the kid--Jive--had his   
crossbow trained on Mulder. Who happened to have acquired an   
artillery of his own.   
  
I aimed and fired at him; aiming low so I wouldn't accidentally   
kill him. That would upset Dana more than you would think. I   
let off shaft number one, which missed, then shaft number two,   
which missed. Throwing the weapons aside I charged straight   
for him.   
  
And then, oww, there was a crossbow shaft through my upper   
abdomen. Fractions away from my heart.   
  
As I stumbled backwards, managing to keep myself on my feet,   
I watched Mulder take the kid by the neck, pushing the   
crossbow aside, and prepare to feed. I tried to move forward, as   
did Dana, but both of us were more than a little handicapped.   
She tripped and fell and I, well, I collapsed.   
  
Then the weirdest thing happened.   
  
Mulder suddenly pulled away from Jive and took a staggering   
step backwards. About then I noticed the man who had pulled   
him away.   
  
He was very large, as in tall and stocky, with a few days' growth   
of beard and a long, black leather duster. He spun Mulder   
around, and as the somewhat smaller vampire tried to slip out of   
his grasp, he pulled up and back on his arm and there was a   
sickening crunch.   
  
A stake in his hand, the muscular stranger threw Mulder to the   
ground and stepped on his chest, prohibiting movement as he   
took careful aim towards the heart.  
  
"Stop! Stop! Hey, hey you, don't kill him already!! Or I'll...I'll   
shoot!!"  
  
Dana and I both looked to Jive, who now trained his weapon on   
the new guy. It quivered a little. "Okay, um, uh, put the stake   
down." The big guy didn't seem very worried about the sudden   
danger of the crossbow, but he heeded the kid's words anyway.   
  
There was a deafening silence as the burly man tossed the stake   
aside. He did not remove his foot from Mulder's chest. "So?" he   
said at last.  
  
"Uhn," Dana grunted as she pulled herself to her unsteady feet   
and limped forward. "It's okay, really, you don't have to kill   
him. He just got away, that's all."  
  
"He almost killed that kid over there," Said the stranger,   
pointing at Jive, (who was getting tired of being called a kid, no   
doubt.) "Besides--he's a vampire."  
  
"Not all vampires are bad." I cut in suddenly, remaining on the   
ground due to the shaft through my torso. I thought back and   
added, "Well....actually....he might qualify...."  
  
"Please. He's not really bad. We're just trying to bring him back,   
that's all. Look--let me have him." Dana stepped up to her   
former partner and motioned for the big guy to let him go. She   
grabbed Mulder by the arm and dragged him to his feet.   
  
He looked like he knew what was coming to him.   
  
SMACK! We all winced.  
  
SMACK! SMACK!  
  
SMACK!  
  
I could hardly hear her, even through my heightened senses, as   
she pulled on his collar to force his head down to her level. Her   
teeth clenched, she narrowed her eyes and hissed, "Mulder if   
you *ever* do that again, your cause is lost. You're going   
straight to Hell, have I made myself very, very clear?" Silence.   
"Answer me, damnit."  
  
"Yes," he choked.   
  
"Good." She threw him to the ground and turned to Jive. "Well,   
maybe we could use your help after all. But don't be expecting   
us to ask you to risk your life." She paused, then threw him her   
car keys. "Bring around my car, will ya?"  
  
"It's what I live for," said Jive with an exaggerated bow, and he   
hurried off.   
  
Dana looked up to the new guy, who was retrieving his stake   
from the ground. "Who're you?"   
  
He looked up. His eyes were dark and his face was somewhat   
flat; his hair was slightly too long and nearly as dark as his eyes,   
but beneath the grunge there was a fantastically handsome man.   
"My name's Gaul Baker. Call me Baker, though. Don't like   
being thought of as an ancient Frenchman."   
  
Dana nodded, then looked to me. I looked back. She turned back   
to this Baker person.   
  
"How'd you like a Job?"  
  
******  
  
At three o'clock, the small restaurant off the East Side of   
Swingall Street was very busy. Ayley's had been around for   
almost fifteen years and some of the daily customers had grown   
up with the place. It was always crowded at three o'clock.   
  
Elena was jotting down the smaller details on her previously-  
scribbled order when the employee's entrance opened and their   
number one waiter walked in.   
  
Bob Ashton had worked there for a few months; he was a tall   
kind of fellow with dark hair and an unkempt goatee, wire-  
framed glasses that were always sitting awkwardly on the bridge   
of his nose and always sliding down. Not only was he the best   
waiter Ayley's had ever had the honor of employing, but he also   
took the cake as the moodiest. "Hey Bob," Said Elena, posting   
the order on the bulletin so the cook could start work on it.   
"Hey, Dana," she said to the neatly-dressed woman behind him.   
  
Elena didn't know exactly what was wrong with Bob--attitude   
problem, sure--but there had to be something. The young   
woman who she thought at first to be his girlfriend was actually   
a doctor or something. Dana said she couldn't let him out of her   
sight, and proceeded to sit through his shift at the bar every day,   
usually reading. She could keep an eye on him as he took   
orders, and she knew that the other employees would stop him if   
he tried to get out through the employee exit.   
  
It was weird. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with him.   
Maybe he was suicidal or something.  
  
The thought sparked ideas in her head as she headed back into   
the dining room to deliver a BLT sub with fries to table seven.   
But then, Bob? Suicidal? He didn't seem suicidal. More   
homicidal. She shuddered to think that just a few weeks ago the   
police had put him on the top of their suspect list for the murder   
of another employee. Much to everyone's relief, they'd had to   
rule him out the very next evening. Sure, Bob wasn't the nicest   
guy around--but nobody actually believed he would kill   
someone.   
  
Especially not with his own personal watchdog around.  
  
The confrontation happened about half an hour later, when Bob   
and Elena ran into each other in the kitchen. Actually, Elena ran   
into him.   
  
She nearly collided with the taller man as she rounded the   
corner; he was leaning against the wall looking really sick and   
tired, taking no notice of her. "Woah. Bob?" He didn't answer.   
His arm twitched a little, though. "Bob, what's the matter? Are   
you ok?"  
  
Expecting something like "Shove it" the girl instead was met   
with a complete emotional wreck. Bob made a dry sob and slid   
along the wall into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around   
his legs. "Woah. Woah, Bob, talk to me here. Talk. Speak!"  
  
He groaned and his arm twitched. He locked his eyes on Elena   
and did not remove them; he did not even blink. "What the heck   
is wrong with you? Ohh....Amie!" Elena yelled across the room   
to another waitress who was taking a break, "Amie, go get Dana   
okay? Bob, what's the matter?"  
  
"I'm starving," he said, making a gasping noise. "s-s-starving...."  
  
"Good God," Elena looked around for something or someone to   
help. She was beginning to get weirded out by him staring at her   
like that. Luckily, Dana pummeled through the swinging doors   
at that instant.   
  
"Oh, no," she grumbled, then knelt down and gathered her now-  
whimpering companion into her arms. "Not here. Not here."  
  
"S-starving," he mumbled again. He clutched at Dana's shirt   
reflexively.   
  
"I could get Cody to whip him up a sandwich," Elena offered   
quickly. Dana pulled both herself and her pet peeve to her feet,   
shaking her head.   
  
"No, it's okay. Really. I knew this would happen some time or   
other this week. I'll just take him home, I guess. C'mon--er--  
*Bob*, we'll go home and get you something to eat, all right?"   
Supporting him, she headed for the doors.   
  
"Is that's what's wrong?" Elena called, "He's anorexic or   
something? He won't eat?"  
  
"Um, something like that," Dana called back, and they left the   
restaurant.   
  
******  
  
I watched what went on in my living room carefully, from afar,   
and I tried to stay unemotional. I watched her help him in and sit   
down, cradling his head like a child as she hissed to me, "Angel,   
get the 60% blood. I think we have a change here. Hurry." I got   
the desired canister and heated it up for a minute in the   
microwave, trying to look nonchalant as I listened in on the   
pitiful conversation.   
  
"I'm hungry, Scully. I'm starving...I'm starving...."  
  
"I know, Mulder, just relax. We'll get you some warm blood--  
how will you like that?"  
  
A loud growl--not from Mulder but his stomach. "Human blood,   
Scully?"  
  
"Human blood, Mulder. All the human blood you need."  
  
"...Okay."  
  
I handed her the glass and watched, ignored, as she helped him   
drink it. Streaks of red ran down his face from the corners of his   
mouth and for once he didn't seem to notice that the concoction   
wasn't 100% human.  
  
He drank three whole canisters before falling asleep in her arms;   
I watched from afar as she sat motionless and expressionless   
and stroked his hair and face. And wished with all my heart that   
instead of him, it was me.   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Three  
  
  
"Oy, there, Angel!" My door opened suddenly and in charged   
Topps, armed to the teeth.  
  
I looked up from the morning paper and raised an eyebrow,   
looking over the teenager for a long moment.  
  
Starting at the bottom and working up, he had strapped two   
daggers around each of his black combats, another hanging   
around his waist. There were two stakes also attached to his belt,   
not to mention two more daggers--one strapped to his left bicep   
and the other around his right lower arm. He had a crossbow   
strapped over one shoulder and a sword strapped across his   
back, and around his neck was a total of one Ankh and one   
crucifix, and one amulet that smelled like it was stuffed with   
garlic.   
  
Wordless for a moment, I eventually asked "coffee?"  
  
"Nah." Topps said, pacing my kitchen energetically, "You called   
and told me I needed to start off the new guy for fighting, right?   
I'm anxious to meet the guy. Where is he?"   
  
I pointed towards my library, which was luckily in the opposite   
direction from Fox Mulder. It pained me to think of all the loss   
that Devin had been through in the past few weeks; It pained me   
even more to think that he had to be in the same household as   
Andy's killer and not be permitted revenge of any sort.   
  
It's very hard to lose a soul mate.   
  
Unfortunately, I saw the brief exchange as Topps looked over   
his shoulder into the living room, where Mulder was watching   
tv without really paying attention to what was on. The blonde   
teenager's face, for an instant, became crossed with emotions,   
before he shook his head a little and disappeared into the library.   
  
******  
  
"Waaait a minute here. You're Topps?"  
  
Topps looked disapprovingly at the blonde across the room from   
him. "Angel recruited *you*?" he countered.   
  
"You're younger than I am!"  
  
"You're scrawnier than the needle that got lost in the haystack!"  
  
"This is screwed up, man. Hey ANGEL?"  
  
Jive crossed his arms and looked out into the kitchen, where the   
subconsciously brooding vampire looked up, eventually got up   
and walked over. "Yes?" he said quietly. Topps and Jive spoke   
at once.   
  
"How the hell did you pick this guy out? You win him in a   
poker match or something?"  
  
"This kid has got to be a sophomore or something! You were all   
so serious about *me* being so young and yet here is your   
weapons expert?"  
  
Angel sighed and leaned against the doorframe of his library.   
Both young men crossed their arms and furrowed their   
eyebrows at the same time. "Well?" they both said   
simultaneously.   
  
"Jive, Topps got mixed up with me when he was still in middle   
school. I felt the same way about him in the beginning, but now   
I sincerely trust that he can take care of himself. Topps, the   
reason I brought you here is so you can show him how to defend   
himself--okay, how to fight maybe. Whatever. Just do it, all   
right?" There was a short pause, then both highschoolers nodded   
to him. He turned back towards the kitchen and his coffee mug,   
flipping through the paper until he came across the small,   
familiar ad in the back of the paper.   
  
He'd have to get rid of it soon.  
  
******  
  
The door opened in the foyer and Dana's voice rang out through   
the apartment. "Whoo! I'm back! The outlet malls here are   
AMAZING!"   
  
I put the newspaper down and met her halfway into the kitchen,   
taking from her several shopping bags. My heart---non-working   
as it was---fluttered as she pecked a kiss my cheek, and brushed   
the top of my head affectionately. Nearly dizzy, I set the bags   
down on the table. "Had fun?" I offered weakly.  
  
She grinned towards me, not bothering to hide her canine teeth.   
"It was wonderful. Thank you _so_ much for babysitting, Angel,   
really. I haven't had a day off in.....weeks!"  
  
"Any time," I offered, looking over my shoulder towards the   
baby in question. "It's not like he does anything anyway." We   
watched him watch the tv for a minute.   
  
"Thanks anyway," Dana said, shaking her head, "Oh, would you   
mind if I modeled a little? Having no reflection kind of cuts   
back on knowing how good you look--finally I have someone to   
reflect for me. Did I mention the outlet malls in this place are   
amazing."  
  
I half-smiled, half-grimaced. "I'd love to, er, help, but I warn   
you, I'm not all so good with compliments." She gave me a wide   
smile and a moment later wrinkled her nose.   
  
"What is that smell? Yuck."  
  
I sniffed, paused and shook my head with a small smile. "Oh.   
Topps has some kind of garlic amulet thing on. He's in the   
library with Jive right now."   
  
Dana shook her head in disgust and pressed her lips into a line.   
"Well tell him to take it off and put it outside or something.   
Vampires live here. Yuck." She grabbed a few bags and   
disappeared into my bedroom.  
  
Smiling, like I usually do after a confrontation with her, I   
wandered into the library and winced. Books lay strewn around   
the floor and Jive was pressed up against one of the empty   
shelves with an axe blade at his throat. "Woah, Topps, I said   
teach him to fight, not obliterate him," I said. Topps lowered the   
axe and looked helplessly in my direction, like I was wrecking   
his teaching style or something. Well, a moment later Jive   
cracked him on the head with a very large textbook, sending   
him to the floor.   
  
"Perfect," Topps managed, holding his head and wincing.   
  
Nervously taking in the state of my once-alphabetized library I   
quietly said, "you guys, uh, try not to wreck any of these books,   
and, er, put them--you know--back on the shelves when   
you're....."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Topps reached up and Jive pulled him to his feet.   
Just loud enough, my friend and fellow fighter whispered to   
Jive, "And another thing, Angel is a neat freak! Do not I repeat   
do not leave empty soda cans lying around his living room--he   
can be scary when he's angry at ya--dude, have you seen him   
when he's all vampy? Talk about in need of plastic surgery."  
  
Sighing and shaking my head, I took Topps's amulet from him   
and, letting them to their gossip, went back into the kitchen and   
placed it in the back of the freezer. Noticing Dana was still in   
my room, I knocked on the door. "You ok?"  
  
She laughed from inside. "You just can't wait can you? I'm still   
getting dressed in here. Be out in a min." Nodding to myself I   
headed back to the library to find--to my delight--the boys   
carefully putting my books back on the shelves.   
  
"Hey, I don't really want to interrupt and I hope this doesn't   
sound like I mean it negatively, but Dana's modeling her new   
outfits and I think she was aiming for, uh, compliments--and I   
happen to be not very good at that...kind...of....." By then the   
room was completely deserted and I frowned at the books still   
lying on the ground before turning back to the kitchen. Maybe I   
could take a few hints from the guys.   
  
******  
  
Baker sat down at a solitary booth at the back of the Moonlight   
bar and club, his eyes watching carefully as several skimpily-  
dressed women walked by his table. He blended into the   
atmosphere almost perfectly; he was maybe out of place in the   
bar full of deadheads dressed as vampires, but with his brown   
coat and scruffy beard he could sit in the back and not be   
noticed at all.   
  
Vampiriods, he thought with a sneer. If only they knew.   
  
The Moonlight was, however, a good spot for newbies.   
Sometimes, when things were slow, Baker could sit and watch   
the people going by, and wait, and wait, and wait. And then, in   
through the door walks a scruffy-haired teenager, looking like   
he's never been in a vamp spot in his life. He would wander   
around, feeling out of place, and sit down someplace alone. Not   
long after he would leave, feeling as helpless as when he came   
in. That place was no place for him. It was a bar full of   
wannabes. He was the real thing.  
  
That was when Baker would strike.   
  
But there were no newbies tonight; He sat back and was ignored   
for hours, before he stood and left, tipping the waitress   
generously as he got up from the table. Wandering the streets   
did very little; there seemed to be no more demons in Vade   
Arizona. At all.   
  
He figured it was this Angel guy, and the woman, Scully.   
Vampires. He knew. But they were different somehow. They   
weren't the usual evil, vile and blood-sucking monsters he was   
used to coming in contact with. And if they were fighting for the   
good cause.....well, maybe he would play along. Just to get a   
feel for them, though. Just in case they were more than they said   
they were.   
  
Baker left the bar and disappeared into the night.   
  
******  
  
It twitched its tail, paused, and slithered forward.   
  
There were loud voices nearby; very loud and very stupid. Easy   
prey. It slithered in closer and froze; then slithered in closer   
again.   
  
Two voices were female, two were male. There was a fire, but   
there was usually a fire. Human beings liked the warmth and   
light of the fire. They had thought for centuries that it warded   
off evil. They were wrong. It liked fire, too. It was warm, and   
bright, and wherever there was a fire there was a human or two.   
  
Finally it reared up and hissed. It found its first prey and felt a   
flash of energy enter its body. There were yells from all around;   
it was a simple movement to turn around, and there were two   
more flashes of energy.   
  
The last human ran. Ran fast.   
  
It slithered through the tree trunks and across the pebbly sand as   
quickly as was possible, but the human being had legs and the   
great power of fear on its side. The human ran. The human got   
away.  
  
But it had been a successful hunt, tonight.   
  
And tomorrow would bring more.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Four  
  
  
"It's called a basilisk," Jive said, peering over the top of a   
silvery-looking ancient book. "A snake or serpent that feeds off   
the power and energy of other creatures, leaving the corpses as   
solid stone figures. They hunt by day and night but are mostly   
nocturnal, and they are voraciously indiscriminant. They are   
known for feeding on children, like other wild animals, because   
they are basically the easiest prey around."  
  
I looked up and leaned back in my chair; Topps, Jive, Baker,   
Dana and I were all meeting in my office--office in the way that   
there were books and there was a desk and there was my chair.   
But that was about it. "So," I said, "these things   
are.....what......territorial? Has there been some kind of   
outbreak?"  
  
"Two attacks on two different sides of town," Dana shook her   
head and started pacing the cramped office as if she was a   
practiced predator herself. "What are these things' hunting   
ranges? Maybe we can target the area, figure out how many   
we're dealing with......where they came from...."  
  
Jive gulped over his book and flipped a page without saying   
anything. "Um, well, this says they're strictly territorial and fight   
to defend their area, even substantial mates if it's the wrong   
season, but there's nothing about....er......how large their 'area'   
actually is so......"  
  
"So you could have one or two or a whole freaking pack," Baker   
grumbled.   
  
I closed my eyes and shook my head dismissively. "So....how do   
we fight these things? There some spell or.....we have to do it,   
what, manually?"  
  
Jive gulped again and flipped another page in despair. The   
answer came from somewhere completely unexpected, however,   
and all five heads snapped towards the window seat on the far   
end of the room where a black-clad figure stared blankly out the   
window.   
  
"Basilisks are not only territorial but also extremely   
manipulative. They feed once every full moon, and although the   
textbooks say they drink only the energy of virgin females, the   
more logical idea is that they are less discriminative. They have   
no territory; they take food when they need it and hibernate   
otherwise, although if another creature or basilisk crosses their   
path they will fight to kill. Their hypnotic and energy-draining   
powers work only on creatures of more complicated minds; they   
themselves have brains too simple to comprehend the magic   
themselves. They feed then hibernate until the full moon rises   
again. That is all there is to say about the theoretical basilisk."  
  
Nobody said anything as Mulder slowly stood up and walked   
over to Jive, picking the book out of his hands and flipping   
though it himself. Finally he threw the book over his shoulder   
and took his time leaning against one of my bookshelves.   
  
"What you don't realize about the basilisk is that its simple   
mind is very, very easy to control. These attacks are nearly at   
the midpoint of the moon's rotation; the basilisks should be in   
hibernation, what happened." He closed his eyes patiently for a   
moment and then watched us all casually, with an edge of   
warning in his eyes that threatened anyone to cross his words.   
"What happens often with the basilisk is that a sorcerer or   
sorceress with the right intentions will come along and cast a   
collective spell against them, getting a handful of them into one   
place at one time without having a big brawl of stone-casting   
lizards. Their minds are so easy to control that anyone with the   
knowledge to do so can harness their very destructive power and   
use it against his or her....foes."  
  
I let my eyes drift to Dana to see how she took the sudden   
outburst of information. Her eyes were bright and the gears   
whirled in her head for a while, before she said quietly, "Thank   
you, Mulder."  
  
Thank you indeed. Jive looked shown-up and he was--and on   
his first case, too. I knew he felt downcast because of his close   
relation to the particular problem; he wanted to help but didn't   
know how.   
  
Mulder's sudden burst of inspiration was a surprise; maybe he   
felt that so long as he was stuck with us 'losers', he ought to   
make the best of it. But it didn't fit well with the vampire I'd   
been getting to know recently.   
  
"So, um," I said after a long pause, "Someone is controlling   
them, then."  
  
"Someone powerful." He agreed. "I'll check out the local   
alchemy shops, maybe someone's using it as a front. Oh, wait,"   
Mulder's eyes narrowed and focused darkly on his former   
friend, "I'm not allowed out of sight. I suppose I'll go wash the   
dishes and vege' on the couch instead." He brushed past Topps,   
who failed to move out of his way as Mulder passed, and   
stormed down the hall in the general direction of the kitchen.   
  
Dana nodded slowly and turned in my general direction. "'sup   
his ass?" Baker mumbled, watching Mulder disappear down the   
hallway.   
  
"Well, I guess we'll just go with what we've got," Dana sighed,   
putting down a notepad I hadn't seen before, which had ticked   
off attributes of the basilisk. We exchanged glances and looked   
towards the door and Dana shook her head and made a weak   
attempt at a smile.  
  
"Well," she tried to laugh, "at least he's talking, now."  
  
******  
  
Somehow I slipped away from the others--they were planning   
on finding something that could let them fight the Basilisks,   
seeing as they could turn one into stone and all. I left them in   
my office and slowly walked into my kitchen/living room area.   
  
True to his word, Mulder had finished the dish-washing and was   
vegetating in front of the tv, his eyes somewhat glazed as if he   
was lost in some other world. I got a glimpse of what he was   
watching and, somewhat flushed, snapped off the television.   
  
It took him a minute to figure out what had happened. I stood in   
front of the television and crossed my arms. Something needed   
to be done with the guy; and even though I admired Dana's   
methods, I didn't think they were getting us as far as she'd   
thought.   
  
"Mulder," I said quietly. His hazel colored eyes snapped in my   
direction and he glared. Okay, two can play at that game I   
thought, so I glared back. We glared for a while.  
  
"What?" he said finally.   
  
I looked away for a moment, seeking the correct words.   
Eventually I turned to him again. "Mulder, why do you hurt her   
like this? She's just trying to help you. We all are. You have a   
soul. Where the hell is your conscience?" I tried to soften my   
voice but the dead weight of my words dropped like stones   
around us.   
  
"Conscience?" he stood up and walked towards me, then veered   
off to the right and stared at a globe sitting on a pedestal in the   
corner. He twirled it with his finger and watched it spin for a   
few long seconds. "I remember having a conscience. I think I   
killed it. It's not impossible to do that, you know."  
  
"People care for you, Fox," I said quietly. He snorted.   
  
"Fox isn't my name. My name is Mulder. ...Hell my name isn't   
Mulder either. It's Bob Ashton." He spun the globe with his   
hand; the colors whirled as it sped around and around under his   
glittering stare.   
  
"You are still the same person. You're just getting your priorities   
wrong. Just because you changed your identity doesn't mean   
you've changed what's in your head. You're still--"  
  
He smacked down on the globe and it stopped dead under his   
hand. Spinning to face me he shouted, "FOX MULDER IS   
DEAD!! He died in 1999 in Los Angeles California because he   
fucking disobeyed protocol and took the vampire investigation   
ALONE!!!"  
  
I tensed; I had no doubt that he could and would try to attack me   
if I got him rallied up enough. He was very unstable; I shouldn't   
have started like that so quickly. Take it slow, I told   
myself.   
  
Before I could find something better to say, he stepped towards   
me, stopping inches from my face as he breathed, "His   
conscience lasted a little longer than he did. But he's still dead."   
He pressed both his hands against my shoulders and shoved me   
back a foot or two. "*Angelus.*"  
  
"What's going on?" Dana demanded, having heard the shouting   
and come running. Mulder said no more, brushing past me into   
the foyer. I heard him murmur to her something about going   
home, and she stopped by me a moment before heading out.   
  
"What happened?" she hissed.   
  
"Sorry," I mumbled, looking down, "I shouldn't have, not   
without your consent."  
  
"It'll be okay," Dana said to me lightly, still searching for   
answers in my eyes, "Just give it some time, and it'll be okay."   
  
She patted my arm and left. The others left shortly after her.   
  
  
******  
  
  
I swung my flashlight over the pale barks of the trees and   
listened carefully for any signs of disruption.  
  
Hours of Basilisk research had given us one thing--a way to   
ward them off. Unfortunately, Dana was the one that realized   
we weren't going to catch very many if they were warded off.   
But, seeing as we had no other choice, I took with me Dana,   
Mulder, and Topps and we went Basilisk hunting.  
  
Jive had let us go hesitantly, then suggested that he get to work   
finding out who the real enemy is--who was the puppeteer of the   
Basilisks. I had readily agreed; he really was in no shape to be   
out with us. Not yet, anyway. He gave us the location of where   
he and his lab partner had been attacked, and we went. Baker   
had his own things to do, I guess.   
  
The woods were out of place in the desert; there had been some   
news article that Dana had fawned about that stated that the   
growing conditions, even in the desert, were the perfect place   
for a forest, and so sixty years ago a forest had sprung up and   
the town had nurtured it from then.   
  
Now it was large and wild, and home to an unspeakable evil.   
  
"It looks okay so far," I said nonchalantly, peering into the   
darkness at the circle of woods that was illuminated by my   
flashlight. Realizing how stupid that sounded I added, "You   
know, the usual, trees, sticks, dirt....."  
  
"No birds," Mulder said, brushing next to me.   
  
"What?" I said, looking around for him. He'd disappeared.   
"Dana, he's--"  
  
"He's not, he's right over there," Dana said calmly. "Angel, why   
don't you see in the dark?"  
  
I sighed and turned my flashlight off. "I don't know. I think my   
dad must have had bad eyes," I said wanly. The moon happened   
to be very bright, and my eyes had started to adjust.   
  
"Great now *I* can't see," Topps complained. He took the   
flashlight from me and I looked around us.   
  
We had advanced into the woods; there were trees all around but   
there was no foliage underfoot; it was as if the plants and bushes   
had simply stopped growing while the trees flourished.   
  
To my left, Mulder was staring up an incredibly tall tree, hands   
in the pockets of his black leather jacket. Dana was behind me,   
bending over the ground and Topps was shining the flashlight   
straight ahead. "Angel," I heard Dana say and I turned around,   
bending down beside her.  
  
"What does this look like to you?" she prodded a slimy   
substance with a twig; it responded to her poke and writhed on   
the ground.   
  
I shook my head. "No clue," I said, "Looks like some sort   
of.....bile."  
  
I don't know what I had said, but suddenly I heard a chuckle   
from Dana and, at the same time, a flat, dry laugh from Mulder   
behind me. "Something I said?" I murmured.  
  
"Kind of an......Inside joke," Dana explained, shaking off her   
smile. "So, if this is bile, what is it bile *of*? The Basilisk?"  
  
I exchanged thoughtful glances with her for a moment before   
Mulder turned to us angrily. "Are you going to crouch there all   
evening staring at each other or are we going to move on?" He   
crossed his arms and, reluctantly, I stood up and watched Dana   
slip some of the bile into a plastic bag before I helped her up as   
well.   
  
We followed Mulder obediently; Dana had suggested we do,   
and sure enough he brought us straight to an old rock   
outcropping. The boulders could have been there for centuries,   
the way they were worn smooth and glassy, and each one of   
them was taller than any two of us put together.   
  
Perfect Basilisk hideout.   
  
"Great, now what?" Dana said tiredly. "I mean, even if we have   
their home, they can still turn us into stone just by   
looking.....at......." she was staring at the boulders; I followed her   
gaze to see Mulder, eyes clenched shut, squeezing himself into a   
sort of wide burrow dug underneath the foremost boulder.   
"Mulder, no--come on!!"  
  
"Get the blindfold, Scully," he said, his voice echoing in the   
small cave. "And....you might want to close your eyes."   
  
Dana, Topps and I exchanged glances before Dana brought out   
the duct tape that we figured could serve as a blindfold. We   
waited.   
  
Although all we could see of the vampire was the ends of his   
legs, we could pretty much guess what was going on beneath.   
There was shuffling, more shuffling. A sudden cry--  
"EERRRAAAAACCCKKK!!!!" and an agitated vampire's hiss-  
-"HHHHHHHHHHH!!!" then more shuffling, and finally   
Mulder yelped "Close your eyes!" And began to wriggle his   
way out of the burrow.   
  
We exchanged one last glance and clamped our eyes shut. I   
heard the struggling sounds of a very large serpent, and several   
short grunts from the man attempting to subdue it. "Duct tape,"   
he said, his voice strained. Dana handed me the duct tape and I   
made my way towards the place where Mulder was wrestling   
the creature. I reached out and felt a coily body writing on the   
ground, and a second later something sharp pierced the skin on   
the back of my hand. "Ahh!"  
  
"DUCT TAPE," Mulder growled. I fumbled to get the tape into   
his hands then stepped back, pinching around my wound in case   
there was any poison in the venom of the creature. I heard the   
sound of duct tape ripping and a moment or two later, "There,   
it's safe now."  
  
We opened our eyes; the night seemed a lot brighter than it had   
a minute ago. Mulder was standing now, holding the giant snake   
from behind its head as it writhed in mid air. The creature's face   
was obscured by metallic looking tape and Mulder had more   
than a few bite marks on his arms and neck. "Here, somebody   
take it," he murmured. Topps opened a burlap sack and the   
vampire hastily dropped it inside, brushing his hands off as he   
stepped out of the way of Topps's flashlight. Dana approached   
him carefully, and they inspected the wounds all along his arms.   
  
"Angel," Dana said, motioning me over, "You get bitten?" I   
nodded and showed her the two small bite marks on my hand.   
She nodded. "I think you'll be okay; The Basilisk is supposed to   
be poisonous, but we have a slight better heal-to-wound ratio   
than most people. When you get home, drink about a pint." I   
nodded.   
  
I noticed that Mulder had become strangely whiter than he had   
been before. Dana casually turned to him. "And let's see, you   
were bitten.....twelve times, so, twelve pints." She turned and   
headed towards her car, which was still parked in the clearing   
near the mouth of the woods.   
  
Mulder walked beside me, shaking his head and looking at his   
bite-covered arms. "That is the absolute last time I do anything   
for you people!" he exclaimed quietly, and walked on ahead.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Five  
  
  
I downed the sheep's blood quickly, my feet up on the coffee   
table as I leaned back into the couch. Across the room, Jive was   
busy reading up on some ancient texts; Topps was crouching   
down and peering into the makeshift cage we'd created for the   
blinded basilisk. Behind me an interesting conversation was   
taking place.  
  
"Nnn-no f-f-fucking w-w-w-w--"  
  
"Mulder, you will very probably die if you do not drink this."  
  
"F-f-f-f-fin-ne."  
  
"Fine nothing, look at you! you can't even stand up. Come on,   
right now."  
  
"N-no!"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"N-N-NO!"  
  
"Don't make me force feed you, because I will."  
  
I looked over my shoulder for a minute; Mulder sat slouched at   
the kitchen table, shivering like mad and his eyes out of focus.   
Being bitten twelve times by a basilisk must not be all that fun.   
Scully finally tilted his head back, clasped her hand under his   
chin and poured some of the blood down his throat. He   
struggled, then gagged, but finally gave up.   
  
Noticing that I wasn't the only one watching the little scene, I   
turned to watch Jive as he stared blankly at Mulder, who stood   
up, backed away from Dana as if she'd just poisoned him,   
walked to the sink and began washing out his mouth vigorously.   
I shook my head a little and stood up, trying to get Jive's   
attention back to the matter at hand.   
  
"So what is this thing, Jive?" I knelt next to Topps by the   
Basilisk's cage. Jive hopped into scientific mode.   
  
"Oh, it's definitely part of the serpent family, poisonous. I think   
that I can come up with a weakness for it if I'm given long   
enough to test on it. Until then, we'll need to keep its eyes   
covered, and it might be good to remove its venom glands."   
Looking up from his text, Jive laughed a little and said, "oh,   
hey, uh, I guess I'm the only one who knows how to do that...."  
  
I patted his shoulder. "Great to have you as part of the team."   
Turning to Topps--"until then, Topps, I think you should hook   
up with this Baker guy and see what you can do about looking   
for sources of power. Places of sacrilegious worship, things like   
that."  
  
"I get the idea, A-Dawg," Topps murmured and slank towards   
the foyer. A moment later my door opened and shut as he left.   
  
"What about us?" Dana said from the kitchen. Mulder sauntered   
across into the living room looking relatively moody, although   
not much healthier, and turned on the television  
  
I shook my head a little as Mulder discovered the remote and   
switched the tv to something less than appropriate, and I stood   
and walked into the kitchen. Dana nodded towards the "war   
room" and we quietly departed the living room and the vulgar   
sounds coming from the television.   
  
I spread out a paper on my desk and hunched over it; Dana   
peered over my shoulder at the map of northern Vade county.   
"We can start by looking for dark arts shops, like Mulder said."   
I pointed to one in the corner of the map, "There's one here, but   
I know the owner and it wouldn't be him."  
  
"You have a phone book?" Dana asked, already searching   
through the drawers of my desk. I answered yes but she'd   
already found it.   
  
"I don't think you'll find anything in there--" I began, but she   
had already skimmed to a page and pointed at a small name in   
the corner of the "special interests" column: Richard's Medieval   
and Dark Magick Shoppe at the top of a list of about three.   
"Oh," I said. "Never noticed those before."  
  
"What time is it?" Dana looked at her watch without even   
waiting for me to answer, again, and announced "3:45. That's   
pretty early."   
  
I shrugged and jotted down the name and address of the place.   
"Doesn't matter. These places are all open all night long. So,   
what do you say?"  
  
She smiled to me somewhat forcedly. "what do I say about   
what--that we go, or do we bring Mulder with us? Because the   
unfortunate answer to both of them is yes." She sighed and took   
the paper with all the dark arts addresses on it from my hands   
and shrugged.   
  
I gave her what I hoped was an encouraging smile. "Hey, you're   
doing great with him, really. After a while, you could probably   
send him places alone." I headed towards the door of my   
office/library/war room and picked up one of my jackets as I   
did.   
  
"Until then," she sighed, grabbing her own jacket. We left for   
the hallway and, turning off the vulgar picture of the tv, Mulder   
joined us as we silently left the building.  
  
  
******  
  
It was easy to see that Dana had not been in many Dark Arts   
shops. I saw her eyes drift away to the tall shelves ever so often,   
her hands absently reaching for various dangerous magical   
objects. We marched to the abandoned counter, Mulder in tow,   
and without invitation I cut into the back room and grabbed   
"Richard" by the collar.  
  
I'd seen him before, a loser human not only dealing out illegal   
spells but selling crack on the streets at night. I pinned him to   
the wall and, despite her surprise at my actions, Dana folded her   
arms from her place behind me and shot him a challenging look.   
Mulder ignored us and picked at an obviously used oracle   
locator globe.  
  
"All right! All right! Whaddaya want from me?!" Richard   
struggled under my grip and I dropped him, crossing my own   
arms.   
  
"How about starting with what the hell is going on in the woods   
out here." I turned my head slightly, still keeping a frying gaze   
on this Richard fellow. He gulped and fidgeted with a crucifix   
around his neck. But that didn't make sense; how would he tell   
that we were vampires?  
  
"I don't know nothin'. Linda Morassey is the only bitch on the   
block knows anythin' about anythin'. I don't know nothin'." I   
shot Dana a questioning glance and she looked over the list of   
stores to check out that we'd made earlier.   
  
"Morassey Arts is on here," She announced. "We'll check the   
place out next." I nodded to her and then to Richard; he was   
looking nervously from me to Dana and, ever so often, back to   
Mulder, who would be fiddling with something or other.   
  
"If I learn you're lying to me," I threatened, shoving the guy into   
the wall.   
  
"I swear, man, I wouldn't. It's patrons like you who keep this   
place on line--WOAH! Don't drop that!!!" The short man in the   
Hawaiian shirt dashed across the back office to snatch a small,   
round stone pendant out of Mulder's hands. Mulder paused,   
glared at the man, then promptly snatched it back.  
  
Glaring, Richard growled "That is a Paulisier Travel Lock   
straight from the manufacturer! It is worth its weight in gold   
now GIVE IT TO ME!"  
  
Mulder sneered, throwing the object into the air and catching it   
in his other hand, playing a simple keep-a-way from the agitated   
store owner. "And you think that someone in this town actually   
has any gold? Down, boy, down." He grinned playfully and held   
the pendant over his head, making Richard jump for it.  
  
"Mulder," Dana began.   
  
Mulder wasn't done. Stepping away from the frantic   
shopkeeper, he looked over the pendant and said, "What exactly   
does this thing do, anyway?" He sounded sarcastic.  
  
Richard's eyebrows furrowed. "Matched with a Travel Key   
manufactured in a certain area, it can be used to teleport to the---  
"  
  
"Yeah, whatever," Mulder said, tossing the pendant to Richard   
and sticking his hands in his pockets. Richard caught it and let   
out a deep breath, heading back across the room to place the   
object back on its stand.   
  
"Now, please, get out of my store. I have enough to worry about   
here; I don't need all this Basilisk business to get into my   
groove."  
  
Mulder's eyebrows lifted. "Basilisk business, huh?" a second   
later he had clamped a strong hand down on Richard's shoulder.   
The small man jumped, dropped the expensive pendant to the   
floor, realized what he'd done and shrieked, then whirled on   
Mulder.   
  
Stupidly.  
  
He had gotten only three curses out before the unstable vampire   
had him pinned to the wall with his shoes two feet off the floor.   
Mulder was hissing very gently and very dangerously into the   
store keeper's face.   
  
"Mulder get OFF!" Dana said, yanking her friend away. Mulder   
stepped back and straightened his shirt sleeves, still looking at   
Richard. We all were.  
  
"Basilisks, huh?" I said to Richard. Perhaps someone has been   
telling dirty little lies.  
  
"I....don't believe we mentioned there were Basilisks," Dana   
offered mock-thoughtfully. We both stepped in towards   
Richard, who was crossing himself over and over again, his eyes   
flicking from me to Dana and back.   
  
Mulder bent down and scooped up the chipped "Paulisier"   
pendant, looking it over. It had a sizeable crack down the back   
of it, and a small piece had been chipped off, but it was   
otherwise okay.  
  
But it wasn't in mint condition any more.  
  
"Nice piece of....broken up marble," Mulder observed, looking   
over the pendant slowly, "I'll give you five bucks for it."  
  
"HELL NO!" Richard said.   
  
Mulder smiled calmly. "Fine then, tell us what you know, and   
I'll give you fifteen dollars for it."  
  
Richard glared.  
  
The other vampire raised his eyebrows and took his time as he   
stepped in closer to the store owner. "Let me clarify: You tell us   
what you know about the Basilisks, and I take this. Then, I give   
you fifteen dollars, and as a bonus....you get to live."  
  
Richard blanched.   
  
Mulder got the pendant.  
  
  
******  
  
"That was very unnecessary," Dana said as soon as we'd left the   
store. It appeared that Richard, although he did know that   
someone was controlling the creatures, was not the person we   
were looking for.  
  
"Just having some fun," Mulder chided softly, tossing the   
chipped pendant from hand to hand. "Not much of that around   
any more," he added darkly.  
  
We climbed into my car and pulled away from the curb; Dana   
looked over some newly-acquired notes while her friend and   
enemy chatted from the center back seat, leaning forward   
between us. "The guy sure had a nerve problem. We should   
probably check him out later. I think I smelled Cocaine on him.   
Strange what these senses can do to you. Sure would have been   
a big help in the FBI, wouldn't it, Scully?" He was looking at his   
pendant, rubbing at the small keyhole-like shapes on the front of   
it.   
  
"Yeah, it would," Dana agreed with him warily, possibly hoping   
it was a positive conversation.  
  
"Yeah, it would," echoed Mulder, still enthralled in his pendant.   
"Think of all the cases we could have helped solve...."  
  
"We did," Dana said to him, "After you died, we did."  
  
"Yeah, but we could never say 'thanks to Agent Mulder's   
heightened sense of smell and night vision' could we?"  
  
"Well, no, but we had fun lying about what actually happened."  
  
"Oh, yeah, the lying was fun." Mulder bent down and took a   
long stringy piece of leather off of my car's floor, and he strung   
it through the hole in the top of his pendant.   
  
I was interested now. "What happened to the FBI?" I looked   
away from the road for a second towards Dana. She put on a   
thoughtful expression.   
  
"Well, after I died we both left. We moved to Chicago." She   
smiled. "Chicago was fun, wasn't it Mulder?"  
  
"Chicago was fun," he agreed, preoccupied with knotting the   
leather string into a kind of necklace.   
  
"How did you die?" I asked, hoping it wasn't a touchy subject.  
  
Dana looked up out the windshield and sighed, suddenly lost in   
memories. "Well....in 2003 I started my quest to get Mulder to   
sire me. He wouldn't. He said he didn't want to kill me. I   
understood, but I hated him for it. Man, I tried everything--this   
guy doesn't go on trips, and that includes guilt trips." She   
reached over her head and playfully messed up Mulder's hair.   
He pulled away, still knotting his pendant. "Anyway, in 2007, I   
was shot four times in the chest while on duty, and I would have   
really died, if he hadn't been there."  
  
"And we all know what a mistake that was," grumbled Mulder   
from the back seat. I caught a glimpse of Dana looking sadly   
back at him. "Shut up," I said, and quite suddenly, too.  
  
Mulder looked up, surprised. "What?" He said. I didn't repeat it,   
because I knew he'd heard me, and I knew Dana had heard me,   
too. I didn't want to get in any trouble--not with either of them.   
  
Mulder finally shook his head, dismissing it, and he slipped the   
pendant around his neck. "Ta-dah," he proclaimed, showing it   
off. "What's this thing do again?"  
  
"I didn't catch it," Dana shrugged. I shrugged, too.  
  
"Well, it looks cool." Mulder leaned back in his seat, staring out   
the window. Dana jumped at the opportunity while he was in a   
good mood; I did nothing, not wanting to screw it up.  
  
"So, Mulder," she began, "your birthday is coming up, right?   
You're what, 81 now?"  
  
"No, I'm 80," he said, still looking out the window boredly.   
"What are you?"  
  
"77," Dana said calmly. She looked at me; Mulder looked my   
way as well. "Well?" Dana said to me.  
  
"I'm 314," I said, sighing.   
  
Dana sat back, nodding. "Wow. Angel, you're the oldest person   
I know." She smiled.  
  
I grimaced. "I get that a lot," I admitted sourly.   
  
"I never figured I'd be 77 and looking this good," Dana thought   
aloud. "But then again, I don't know what I look like."  
  
"You're beautiful," I told her.   
  
I think the words surprised all three of us. I looked to Dana; she   
was looking at me carefully, smiling a very little; I looked at   
Mulder, he was looking at me with questions on his features, but   
he said nothing, looking out the window again.  
  
"Thanks," Said Dana. She looked out the window as well.  
  
******  
  
Jive watched Baker from across the bar with envy. He knew, as   
we watched the tall, muscular man take down a shot of whiskey,   
that he'd never be as muscular. Or even attractive, for that   
matter. Hell, he couldn't even drink without passing out.   
  
But maybe this private investigation thingie would bring out his   
true colors. He could learn to fight, sure; And suddenly, he   
would be the cool one in the group.   
  
A few tables away, Angel and Scully were talking in low   
voices; Baker was listening to their words without speaking,   
having already claimed that he'd found nothing. Topps had said   
he'd be showing up later; he had a date and he *couldn't* stand   
the girl up.  
  
Jive leaned against the wall, watching the group curiously. His   
new friends were certainly on the queer side--even Topps, who   
had since given him dating tips, staking tips and even cleaning   
tips. But really, one doesn't run into a group of vampire-hunting   
vampires every day. Dana Scully was beautiful, yet very, very   
serious. Angel was always brooding, but was quiet and nice and   
patient in even the toughest situations. Mulder was.............  
  
Where was Mulder?  
  
He looked around the bar--deserted, it being five in the   
morning--but didn't see the lurking bully anywhere around. He   
got up to investigate, heading outside.   
  
He had just stepped out the door when a strong arm grabbed him   
from behind, drawing him into the shadows. He kicked but did   
not yell; another arm had him in a headlock and a soft,   
dangerous voice just shy of his right ear murmured, "I could   
snap your neck..."  
  
"M-ulder," Jive struggled to say, sounding somewhat surprised.   
"I--uh--don't kill me, please--"  
  
His assailant chuckled and let him free; Jive twisted away and   
faced the black-clad shadow with what he hoped was a fearless   
expression. "W-what are you doing out here?"  
  
Mulder stepped into the moonlight. His face was molded into a   
sour, sarcastic expression. "oh, the smoke was getting to me," he   
said in a light voice. A second later the pleasant face vanished   
and he stepped closer to Jive. "What are *you* doing out here?"  
  
Jive gulped, then looked towards the bar, estimating how far it   
was to the door and how long it would take him to run there--or   
how far he could make it before being attacked. "Oh, uh....I was   
looking for you. C-Come inside, now; Or Scully will kill you."  
  
"That would be pretty hard, seeing as how I'm already dead."   
There was a pause. "God, am I starving."  
  
Mulder gilded towards Jive and grabbed the kid's arm, pulling   
him into the shadows. Jive found he was incapable of movement   
just when he needed it most, as Mulder held his wrists and   
gently rested the tips of his fangs on Jive's neck.   
  
Gregory began to shake, but still could not run. He was the   
proverbial deer in the headlights, waiting for the puncture and   
unable to move until it was over. But it never came.   
  
Mulder had not yet gotten a chance to feed before the bar door   
opened and Angel stepped outside. "Jive?" he called to the   
darkness, and Jive struggled and struggled and finally managed   
an "erp!"  
  
"Jive!" Angel dashed towards them; Mulder stumbled   
backwards and away from the paralyzed senior, who fell to a   
heap on the ground. Angel growled and Mulder stood ready for   
an attack that never came.   
  
Angel stepped to Jive and helped him to his feet. "You okay?"   
He asked, and when Jive bobbed his head yes, Angel pushed   
him towards the bar door saying, "Go inside. Tell Dana what   
happened." And Jive stumbled off.  
  
Crossing his arms, Angel glared at Mulder, not sure what to do.  
  
"I was only kidding with him," Mulder swore, spreading his   
hands.  
  
"How do I know that?" Angel wasn't sure if Scully would   
appreciate him beating the crap out of her former partner, but he   
was tempted. "I've killed vampires who have done far less than   
you have just now."  
  
"You can't kill me, I've got Scully," the offender sassed,   
crossing his own arms in imitation of the Souled Vampire.   
  
Angel glared. "You don't have Scully. She's got you, Mulder,   
and you are nothing but a burden to her."   
  
The bar's door opened and Dana glided out, Baker right behind   
her. Angel stepped out of the way for Scully as she stormed up   
to Mulder and began therapy lesson # 8,947,439.   
  
Baker watched on.   
  
This certainly was an odd group.   
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Six  
  
  
  
Topps didn't have a date.  
  
In fact, not only did he avoid the meeting purposely, he told   
Baker to do so as well.   
  
It had started earlier that evening in their joint search of   
sacrilegious worship. Topps knew the local demon bars and sat   
down quietly in the back for a few hours; nothing of importance   
had made itself apparent so he left and checked the local   
abandoned worship sites. Nothing there, either.  
  
He was about ready to give up when he spotted Baker.   
  
They hadn't been working together like Angel had instructed.   
Topps was appalled the thought of working with someone new,   
and an adult--someone who could push him around--was not   
exactly on his importance list. Nevertheless, he approached   
Baker. "Find anything?"  
  
"yes," was the unexpected answer.   
  
Topps frowned a little behind the burly man's back, but   
followed him into the woods.   
  
"I wanted to check out the basilisk's hideout again. During the   
daytime, when they wouldn't be out. What I found   
was....well.....I'll show you when we get there." Baker just slung   
his pack over his shoulder and begin the long walk to the   
Basilisks' hideout. Topps shrugged and followed at his own   
pace.  
  
He was surprised when Baker slowed down to walk next to him.   
Expecting a conversation, Topps put on his guard. "So where're   
you from?" He asked the taller, more muscular man casually.  
  
"I'm from California," Baker said blandly. "How 'bout you?"  
  
"I was born and bred in Vade," Topps admitted with a sigh, "I   
killed a Mattyryei Demon when I was in eighth grade--Angel   
picked me up, kept me safe, and--uh--killed the whole pack of   
them before they could get back at me. I tried High School;   
couldn't get into it. Then a Tremmor Demon killed my parents.   
They were going to stick me in a foster home, so Angel legally   
adopted me so I could get out on my own. I've been juggling   
jobs and trying to keep an apartment since then. Man, I owe that   
guy a lot."  
  
Baker half-smiled, looked down. "Does it make much of a   
difference that he's a vampire?"  
  
Topps sighed, looked up at the midday sun, and shook his head.   
"Nope." He finally said. "He's a good guy. I'd trust him with my   
neck any time." He looked to the man walking beside him and   
frowned. "So, lone ranger, what's your story?"  
  
Baker shrugged. "Been all over. Killed a lot of demons. I don't   
have much of a history 'sides that." He paused. "What's with   
Scully, and that weirdo she's so protective of?"  
  
Giving a dry laugh, Topps opened his water bottle and took a   
long drink. "I don't know much about them. Scully showed up   
not too long ago, helping us track down this killer vampire   
rampaging the county? Turns out it was Mulder. Damn, if she   
wasn't all over him like that he would be a big pile of frigging   
dust. She thinks she can convert him."  
  
"Can she?"  
  
Topps sneered. "I don't care. First chance I get, I'm putting a   
stake through the guy."  
  
"What do you have against him?"  
  
"He killed my best friend. And I can't touch him." He paused   
and looked up, as if to blame the sun. "And I mean, Miss   
Scully's great and all, but she's got such high goals. She things   
she can turn the loser into a saint. He killed, what was it?   
Twenty seven some people. Probably more. For their blood.   
And he hasn't been punished for it because she won't allow it."  
  
Baker nodded slowly. "Why haven't you killed him yet, then?"  
  
"I--I just--she--" Topps looked up again and stopped walking.   
Baker stopped beside him. "Dana is so........She's just......Okay.   
Look at it like this. If I kill Mulder, I have no doubt in my mind   
that *she* will kill *me*."  
  
"What about Angel?" Baker suggested. "He's something of a   
balancing point, isn't he?"  
  
Topps exploded. "Angel!! Angel is head over heels for the girl.   
He believes that she can do it. And if Angel believes it......" He   
sighed and dropped his shoulders. "Are we there yet?"  
  
"Yes," Baker pointed towards a group of trees not too far away.   
"Right up there."  
  
They walked up to the group of trees and stopped. Topps looked   
around then shrugged. "okay, what?"  
  
"Reach your arm out there."  
  
Tops slowly and carefully reached towards the edge of the   
densely packed trees and drew his hand back quickly. He had   
felt something. Reaching again, his hand stopped against--  
nothing.  
  
Nothing?  
  
"What is this some kind of wall?" Topps put both of his hands   
on the invisible surface and spread them apart. "What's up with   
it?"  
  
"It's a force field," Baker grumbled, pounding against the thing   
with one fist, "Which probably means there's something behind   
it worth seeing."  
  
Topps looked up into the sky and down both sides of the   
invisible wall. "Is there any way through it?"  
  
"I followed the thing all the way around. We need a charm in   
order to get through. I'm not yet sure what kind of charm that   
is." Baker pounded on the wall again. "I don't know how high it   
is, either."  
  
"Give me a leg up," Topps murmured, and Baker obliged,   
kneeling. The younger man stepped into the Hunter's clasped   
hands, his hands skimming the wall upwards.   
  
"Anything?" Baker grunted.   
  
"Nothing--this wall goes up pretty high....." He looked around   
and jumped down to the ground a second later, picking up a   
long stick. He reached up with the branch and tried to tap it   
against the wall; it fell through to the other side. "What the?"  
  
Baker picked up a shorter stick and stabbed it through the wall.   
It went through normally, but his fist remained trapped behind   
the invisible force. The two stared at the stick for a long time.  
  
Finally Topps dropped his stick and pressed both of his hands   
against the wall, sighing into the unknown forest within it.   
"Well, we'd better tell--"  
  
Something hit him hard, and he fell over backwards. Out of the   
corner of his eye, he saw Baker falling to the side at the same   
time; he lay winded for a minute, then the thing struck again.  
  
He couldn't see it.  
  
He sat up and looked around just as something hit his face--  
hard. Scrambling to his feet, he yelled out to baker but was   
knocked against the invisible wall instantly, his breath   
whooshing out of him.   
  
Pound after invisible pound hit his gut, and he was on the verge   
of unconsciousness when a strong arm grabbed him and dragged   
him back towards the woods. Several yards away, they   
collapsed and lay in a pile of twigs, catching their breaths.   
  
"You Ok kid?" Baker asked, breathing hard.   
  
Yes, Topps tried to say, failed. "yes," he managed a second   
later. "m'okay."  
  
"Let's get out of here."  
  
They supported each other as they limped back through the   
woods. Both looked over their shoulders at different points, but   
saw only peaceful woodlands as far as the eye could see.   
  
Both thought, "What could possibly be hidden there?"  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
  
"An invisible force field?"  
  
"That's what it was," Topps said reluctantly. "It seemed like   
anything could pass through but humans. Probably needs some   
kind of spell to break through." He crossed his arms and paced   
my living room.   
  
I scratched my head. "Um, my question is, why didn't you just   
come out and tell me this?"  
  
Topps sighed. "I, um.....Look, Angel. I, for one, am not going   
back there anytime soon. Okay?"  
  
Jive turned his nose up at the younger teen. "I thought you were   
Mr. I-can-handle-anything," he sneered.  
  
"Fine, call me Mr. I-can-handle-anything-but-invisible trees   
beating the crap out of me," Topps sneered back, crossing his   
arms and sinking into my couch, glaring at his combat boots.   
  
"Well it's not stopping me," Jive said snootily, turning a page in   
his book. "Oh, here, look. Ieala fields. Keeps out anything that   
hasn't been blessed with the Ieala Charm. This is a synch; the   
Charm's right here."  
  
I looked at my watch; it was 5:45 now. The News said it was   
rainy and overcast tomorrow. "If we leave now, we have all day   
tomorrow if we need," I said. "I don't think I'll have to worry   
about the sun."  
  
Around the room, I saw a multitude of feelings coming from   
their respective owners--Mulder, careless as usual, sitting next   
to Dana, quiet in her calculations. Topps fidgeted slightly in his   
seat, making him look younger than he was--or maybe, as young   
*as* he was. I always forgot that he was just a kid.   
  
Baker stood with his arms crossed, thinking to himself in the   
corner and leaning against one of my bookshelves, and finally,   
Jive was deeply concerned with his giant book, which lay open   
on the coffee table.   
  
I sighed and straightened. "Well, let's go," I prompted, heading   
for the door. I grabbed my coat and watched over my shoulder   
as my followers stood and headed towards me.   
  
I grabbed an axe on the way out.  
  
  
  
********  
  
We had to walk to the invisible field, and as it got darker it got   
rainy. We looked up to the sky as the drops fell down and hit us,   
and then shrugged it off. What was the use of carrying an   
umbrella, anyway?  
  
We didn't want to risk being seen, so we formed a line between   
Dana and Mulder, the two who were impartial to the darkness.   
By keeping our eyes set on the back of the person in front of us,   
we could make our way deeper into the woods without lights.   
  
It was around midnight when we got to the wall; Dana ran into it   
and I ran into her, and many apologies ensued. Finally our   
drenching troop put ourselves together and we formed a circle,   
with Jive in the middle to dictate the process of the Ieala Charm.   
  
He looked up into the rain, then down at the paper he'd typed up   
then stuck into a plastic sheet protector. He cleared his throat   
and held up his hand.   
  
"er, Champions of the Stars and Moon, Runners of the land and   
sea, bring down upon us the power of your charms.....we hail   
thee, lord Ieala, free us from bondage and let us pass," Jive said   
in Latin. Scarcely a second had gone by before a bright light   
shot down into him through his outstretched hand; he jerked in   
surprise, but then the action was over and he stared, mystified at   
his arm.  
  
The light from the sky had shot into him and now his arm and   
hand were glowing a bright blue color. He looked at the arm in   
awe before shaking his head, snapping out of it, and hurrying   
around to touch each of us before the power faded. As he   
touched our arms, a blue shock of light seeped through our   
bodies and then vanished; and all was normal again.  
  
Topps, who had been looking around for the invisible monsters   
the whole time, hurriedly picked up his bag and his crossbow   
and ran straight through the once-formidable wall. "Come on,"   
he called through to the other side, "Hurry up, before you get the   
crap beaten out of you!"  
  
I exchanged looks with Dana, then picked up my axe and   
pressed on through the field. I felt a slight tug, but nothing   
more; and a slight blue light came from the field as I cut into it.   
The others followed me, and before long we were walking   
again.   
  
"Baker," I said over my shoulder, "how wide of a circumference   
does this thing have?"  
  
"Don't know," Baker called from a ways back, "It's pretty big, I   
was trying to go around it for an hour but never got anywhere."  
  
I nodded to myself and we pressed on.   
  
******  
  
After a while, our human companions began to weary and we   
still had not gotten far. Finally Jive yelled from the back, "Wait!   
Hold on....I need a break!" and we stopped our train. Baker and   
Topps looked relieved to be off their feet for a while; and to be   
frank, so was I. Vampires don't tire easily, but they do tire.  
  
We couldn't make a campfire for risk of detection, but we had   
brought some heat pads along with us in anticipation of a long   
journey. Baker, Jive and Topps warmed themselves for a while,   
closing their eyes for a break, and I made sure Mulder was in   
sight then sat down next Dana for a while.  
  
"It could be a lot longer," she reckoned as she watched the little   
group from afar. I couldn't see them through the darkness at that   
distance, but I imagine she could. "We should let them sleep a   
while."  
  
"The forecast for tomorrow could be wrong," I pointed out, "I   
might fry if we wait too long."  
  
I realized the selfishness in my words when she responded, "I'm   
sorry for your trouble, Angelus, but people's lives are at stake."  
  
It hurt, and so I quietly added, "I know. I'm sorry."  
  
She smiled and patted my shoulder. A minute later something   
else hit me and I looked up. "Did you call me, uh, Angelus?"  
  
"Yes," she said simply, taking a sip out of a canteen. The sweet   
smell of cold blood came to my attention; I ignored it.   
  
"I really, really would prefer it if you--"  
  
"It's your name," she said flatly, staring into the darkness.   
  
Pausing, I contemplated my words for a second, then told her,   
"It used to be my name. I changed it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I thought you knew."  
  
"I do know."  
  
"Then why do you ask?"  
  
She turned to me and frowned, in a thoughtful way. She closed   
the cap on her canteen and shifted her position on the rock on   
which we both sat. "Angel, here's some food for thought. You,   
for one, believe yourself to be so terribly sinful that it is   
impossible for you to ever redeem yourself."  
  
"Exactly," I said, opening my hands. She took my left hand and   
held it, her fingers separating mine. After a minute she looked   
down at the claddagh ring on my finger, her nail scratching at it.   
I pulled away courteously.   
  
"What was your name?" She said softly.   
  
"My name? You know wh--" I stopped and rolled my eyes.   
"Angelus," I sighed.   
  
"No, I mean your *name*," she pressed. "I mean, people had   
odd sort of names back in your day but, Angelus?"  
  
I smiled faintly. "Liam," I said quietly, rubbing the backs of my   
hands.  
  
"That's a nice name, Liam," She spoke quietly, hugging her   
arms and ever so often pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes.   
"Why Angelus? Why, when you received your soul, didn't you   
use Liam?"  
  
"Come on," I grinned slightly, "how many people do you know   
named 'Liam'?"  
  
She smiled back. "One," she said. Her voice was soft and gentle,   
yet intelligent. I liked her voice. She deepened it a moment later,   
adding a hint of seriousness to it. "You received your soul, and   
you thought that by changing your name, you changed   
yourself...."  
  
"That's not it," I argued. She shook her head. "No, no, it is,   
Angel; you can ask Mulder, who profiled for years and he'll say   
the exact same thing....it's true."  
  
"I...." I began, but I waited and I couldn't think of any reason   
other than hers. I fell silent, staring into the darkness and seeing   
only blackness. Why did I see blackness while she saw people,   
things?  
  
"You'd be surprised how many murderers change their name for   
the exact same reason. Not because they're evading the law;   
because they're evading themselves." She licked her lips and   
inhaled needlessly--a very human characteristic. "And you see,   
Angel, the only reason they are still wanted by police, even if   
they change, in here," she tapped the side of her head, then   
paused, "In *here,*" she laid a hand on her heart, "They don't   
know that. And they want to be sure that it doesn't happen   
again. But people change. That's the whole idea. You changed,   
you know that. You changed, and you wouldn't kill an innocent   
person today, not if your life depended on it. That's what   
changed."  
  
I sighed, also a human characteristic, then shrugged and shook   
my head. "It doesn't matter. I still hate myself. I did do those   
things, even if I've changed."  
  
She sat back and watched me for a while. I looked into her eyes,   
bright blue even in the dark. She scratched her arm and crossed   
her ankles, then straightened her posture. "Angel, I have a   
question to ask you. Before.....you died, were you religious?"  
  
I laughed humorlessly. "It was the seventeen hundreds," I said   
flatly, "Everybody was religious."  
  
"But were you?" She said.  
  
I thought. "Yes," I said slowly. "Sometimes, I wasn't sure....but   
yes."  
  
"Are you now?"  
  
I paused for a long time, thinking it over. She spoke quietly.   
"Do you ever blame yourself for sinning against His   
commands? For being Evil? For killing? Do you think God has   
exiled you from his kingdom for what you did? Do you believe   
that you are an Angel, fallen from grace? That you, Liam   
Angelus, can never be loved by Him because of your sins?" Her   
voice was liquid smooth, penetrating, but not angry or blaming.  
  
Without moving, almost without moving my lips, I breathed,   
"yes."  
  
There was a long pause, until she slowly moved to roll up her   
left sleeve. "I want to show you something, Angel. Look at   
this."  
  
I turned to her, her voice still buzzing in my head, and she   
turned to expose her bare bicep to me. I drew back instinctively,   
but discovered that there was no need to.   
  
There was a crucifix beautifully tattooed onto her arm, ringed in   
gold, the formidable form of Christ a physical part of her body.   
She let me look at it for a moment, then took my hand and   
pressed it into the picture, covering my hand with hers. There   
was no pain.   
  
"The moment I died, the cross I wore burned a hole into my   
chest. I tore it off of myself in pain, but looked at the tiny gold   
emblem with remorse in realization--that the one entity I had   
always looked up to in prayer and thought had damned me. I   
cried for days, Angel, days."  
  
She removed my hand from her arm and I looked at the crucifix   
longer. I touched the beautiful form of Jesus Christ with my   
finger, finding only her smooth skin there.   
  
She smiled. "Mulder told me I should pray, then. And I did. He   
did not answer, but he had never answered. The Lord had denied   
me the right to wear his holy emblem on my skin--But Angel--"   
she leaned into me and whispered all too softly into my ear,   
"Angel--*He still listened.*"  
  
I held her hand and looked at the ground. What was this   
meaning? What was she talking about?? She rolled her sleeve   
back into place. "I got this tattoo the next evening. And the only   
thing that hurt....was the needle. He was still listening to me,   
Angel, don't you understand?" I shook my head no. No, I didn't   
understand.  
  
She took my hand and held it to her heart. "Angel, Liam, listen   
to me, all right? You have never hurt me. You have never hurt   
me, nor anybody I know, nor anybody that has met you--You,   
*Angel.*" Her beautiful smile faded slightly and she let go of   
my hand, sitting back. "That's better than I can say for anyone   
else I know. Including myself."  
  
Her words hit me like a load of bricks, nearly knocking me over   
with their meaning. "It wasn't you" is just about the one thing   
that people tell me when I am contemplating Angelus. Here   
comes Dana Scully, and tells me--for one--It *was* you.   
  
I had never really thought of it religiously before. "God doesn't   
want you," Darla had snarled to me--how many years ago?   
  
As if reading my mind, Dana whispered to me, "Has he ever   
told you that he doesn't accept you, Liam Angelus? Has he ever   
spoken to you, responded to your prayer?"  
  
"How do I know He's real, then," I whispered back, "He's never   
answered me...."  
  
"Angel," she hissed, "He doesn't live in the sky in a kingdom of   
clouds. He's *right* *in* *here*!!" she jabbed her finger   
towards my head almost viciously. "You want to help people!   
You know that and we know that, and God knows that and Jesus   
Christ knows that!!!"  
  
I opened my mouth to speak, to protest, to do something, but she   
stood up and stormed towards the group of now sleeping group   
of humans.   
  
I stared at a tree trunk. In here. He knows it, I know it, everyone   
knows it.   
  
But how could I be so privileged, if one sheer moment of   
ecstasy could bring my inner demon out again?  
  
I had no more time to contemplate. A scream echoed through   
the woods, not twenty feet away.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
  
He sat still, the softly-beating hearts of the three sleeping   
humans close, too close.   
  
He closed his eyes and took in a long breath; there was the thick   
smell of human sweat, human *scent* in the air, tantalizing and   
distorting. But none was more tantalizing or distorting as the   
two, constant, rhythmic, pounding, beating hearts.   
  
The small human was the closest. No longer in control of his   
body, he knelt beside the young man, placing a hand on his up-  
turned shoulder. Closing his eyes again, he sneered at his caged   
and beaten inner conscience, hearing only the loud pounding of   
the heart.   
  
Sleeping prey. That was all it was. Sleeping prey.  
  
The Prey awoke as he made the initial incisions, jerking and   
beginning to shout. He moved to cover the mouth but was not   
fast enough, not fast enough in the sudden, exciting, dizzying   
bliss of feeding.  
  
The Prey screamed in terror; he clung on to it in hunger.   
  
In fact, the only thing that separated him from his newly-found   
blood donor was the repetitive whack on the head; he removed   
his lips from the wound in a painful daze and came out of it in   
time to see the large wooden cross come down on his head   
again.   
  
He hissed and rolled away; he was pinned in an instant. While   
the others helped Jive to his feet, Fox Mulder rubbed his head   
and reminded himself that it was a stupid idea in the first place.  
  
  
******  
  
As it was, Jive refused to come into contact with Mulder, Dana,   
or myself for another good fifteen minutes. We decided it was   
best if we kept them separated, and since Jive refused to be   
alone in the woods with that creep and invisible ass-kickers as   
he put it, and we needed Dana in order to see in the dark, we   
elected Baker to take Mulder towards..... wherever, on a   
different route.  
  
We watched the two meld into the forest to our left, and I turned   
to Dana cautiously. I didn't want our terse conversation to be   
holding us up. "You think they'll be okay?" I said, looking   
towards the spot in which they disappeared. She just nodded. I   
nodded back a little self-consciously and picked up my bag and   
my axe. We headed north again, without knowledge of who we   
were fighting, where we were fighting them, or how we were   
going to beat them.  
  
  
******  
  
Baker lagged a few steps behind the disjointed vampire, who   
trudged through the dark undergrowth rubbing an invisible   
bump on his head. Although he counted on Mulder's night   
vision, he couldn't help but remind himself that there was more   
than basilisks hurting people here.  
  
They walked for a long time, not stopping or speaking; the   
once-federal agent didn't even bother to stop and complain or   
taunt during their early-morning trek.   
  
It was only when Baker figured they were near the center of the   
"protective" field when he began to lightly trace the outline of   
the stake in his right pocket.   
  
He slowly withdrew the cherry wood stake, slowly turning it in   
his hands and re-gripping the handle for the best position. He   
picked up his pace after the long, never-ending walk, and in one   
swift motion he jumped forward and grabbed the vampire by the   
back of his black coat.  
  
"Whuh--"   
  
Mulder was on the ground before he realized there even was an   
attack; he saw the stake coming and instinctively outstretched   
his arms. The sharp tip of the device sliced deeply into his wrist   
and his own blood splashed down onto his face. He gasped. A   
second later, Baker had raised the stake again and, gripping   
Mulder's collar with a nearly inhuman strength, he gave off a   
muffled cry as he plunged the stake downwards towards the   
vampire's chest.  
  
Although the attack came quickly, Mulder had realized quickly   
enough that Baker had turned on him. His mind flew for a way   
to free himself as he shook blood out of his eyes, staring straight   
up at the rock solid, tensionless face bearing down on him.   
  
Although he didn't feel the initial stab, he did feel his sternum   
split.   
  
Gasping for air he didn't need, Mulder lay frozen in shock until   
he realized that the stake had missed his heart by several inches.   
His mouth involuntarily opened and closed, and he felt Baker's   
weight shift off of him a moment later.   
  
"Yes, you're alive, you bloodsucking scum," Baker muttered. He   
walked around the phased Fox Mulder in a semi-circle, the   
bloody stake in his right hand and his eyes on the body.   
Mulder's arm started twitching and he blinked heavily, looking   
down at it. Blood sputtered from the good-sized hole in the   
center of his chest, and he struggled to push himself up only to   
slide back into a useless sprawl.  
  
*Get up,* he growled to himself.   
  
"I wanted you alive," Baker said conversationally, looking at the   
trees. "You know, Mulder, I really don't mind your friends, Miss   
Scully and Angel. They're not bad, as far as vampires go. They   
lend a hand, they do their thing, they fight for the good cause...."   
He trained his eyes on Mulder again. "You, however....."  
  
Mulder blinked several times, each time struggling to re-open   
his eyes. *Get up,* he demanded of himself, *It's not that much   
blood...*  
  
He tried once again to push himself up, but this time he was   
substantially weaker. He looked as far down towards his   
stomach as his position would allow; a large red circle of his   
own thick, warm blood spanned a wide circle around him. Still   
more blood covered his chest and lower arm. He closed his eyes   
and tried to clear his head.   
  
"Tell you what, though," Challenged Baker, still calmly, "Here's   
my deal with you. I'm going to take your bag--" he picked up   
Mulder's pack, which had been dropped as soon as the   
unexpected attack had come, and he slipped two full canisters of   
blood out from it. "--And take these convenient canisters that   
you refuse to drink? Tell you what, I'll get rid of them for you."   
  
Mulder watched, his mind on full throttle, as Baker smashed   
both canisters on the base of a tree to their direct left. Watching   
the remainder of the stored blood seep into the dirt by the tree   
made his blood--what little blood there was left--run cold.   
  
Baker knelt beside him. "And," he breathed, "As a bonus, I'm   
going to let you live for a few more hours while I go help our   
your friends. I'll stop by on my way home and, you know, chop   
off your head, end your suffering." Baker's eyes did not glitter   
with excitement; Mulder, still thinking, noted that the man was   
acting purely as what he was--a vampire hunter.   
  
"But of course, you'll probably bleed to death before I get back.   
While you're going, try to think about what it was you've done   
wrong."  
  
Baker half-smiled and patted Mulder's cheek, which was   
splattered in blood. *Vampire Hunter,* he told himself, trying to   
keep his mind straight. *He's doing his thing. He's being a   
Vampire Hunter.*  
  
Baker smiled weakly one more time.   
  
Mulder's light-speed racing mind stopped abruptly at the only   
solution available, if there even was one.   
  
He decided it was time for him to start being a Vampire.  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter Nine  
  
  
I checked behind me; Jive and Topps were still there; Jive   
holding onto the back of my coat, Topps holding his pack. I re-  
adjusted my grip on Dana's pack, and just in time; she stopped   
suddenly and held up a hand as if to say, "Shh!"  
  
We stood still for a moment. "What?" Whispered Jive. I held up   
my hand for silence, and the four of us shifted so we all could   
get a good view.  
  
Straight ahead of us there was a distinct drop, where the foliage   
seemed to be cut away in a circular pattern. There was a fast   
slope downwards into an open ring in the forest, and in the   
center of it all there was a bonfire, blazing its way towards the   
night sky.  
  
I tightened my grip on my battle axe.  
  
Around the bonfire, there were five smaller fires, as if   
representing a star. At one point of the star there stood a demon,   
and at each of the four other points, there stood a basilisk. More   
of the lizards slank around the perimeter of the site.  
  
I turned my head to Topps and Jive without removing my eyes   
from the scene. Some kind of worshipping was going on; and   
whatever *was* going on, we had to stop it.   
  
"Guys," I said, "Close your eyes, and prepare to fight without   
them."  
  
I heard two loud gulps, and then watched as first Jive, then   
Topps tightly shut their eyes. I turned to Dana, and she looked   
up at me.   
  
"If you can't see things, does it mean they're not there?" She said   
softly, her hand lightly rubbing against her tattooed upper arm.   
  
I looked away, back towards the fires, to avoid falling into the   
two blue pools where her eyes should have been. I swallowed.   
"No," I said, and I closed my eyes.  
  
"Let's do it," Dana said.   
  
And then we charged.   
  
  
********  
  
I shouted for everyone to keep their distance, to avoid hurting   
friends accidentally. I heard a hiss as I charged in the direction   
of the main fire, and I began to swing my axe.   
  
SWOOSH. I hit nothing.   
  
I stopped, paused, and listened.   
  
There was a soft hiss in the background, and I turned on my heel   
already gathering momentum for my swing. I felt the axe blade   
catch and then a soft thud, and then another as the basilisk's   
body hit the ground.   
  
Then I was moving again.   
  
I felt something hot to my immediate right and I jumped to the   
side; I'd gone into one of the miniature fires. There were two   
more hisses on either side of me, and right as I stopped to pause   
and listen a basilisk hit me from the front.   
  
I lost my grip on the axe and fell backwards into the fire at the   
same time; I struggled out of the flames and rolled back and   
forth in the dirt until I was sure the fire was out. The basilisks   
waited for me.  
  
I groped for my axe, but it must have gone flying. Nevertheless,   
I felt a large lizard leap onto me and, crying out, I grabbed a   
red-hot stick that was half-in, half-out of the fire and rammed it   
into my attacker.   
  
There was a dramatic shriek and I brushed the deadly creature   
off of me; at this time I realized that the other one was gnawing   
on my arm.  
  
"Gah!" I shouted uncharacteristically, flinging my arm out to the   
side. The overgrown lizard screamed in rage as I tossed it away,   
and then it screamed in rage again. Ignoring it for the moment, I   
shuffled around in the loose dirt for my axe, then followed the   
screams forward.  
  
I felt heat blast my face and I realized that the basilisk had   
landed in the fire. I heard another scream from the burning   
creature and swung my axe; the scream died along with its   
creator.  
  
It was silent for a moment; I whirled around. "Dana? Jive?"  
  
"Here," came Scully's slightly-excited voice.  
  
"I'm okay," Jive called.   
  
"What about Topps?" Topps echoed. "And, can we open our   
eyes now? Because, I've stepped in this fire twice already."  
  
"I killed three, I think," I told them.   
  
"I got two," Dana said. Both humans reported they'd each gotten   
one. There had to be more; not safe to open our eyes just yet.   
"What about the demon? The person leading the worshipping?   
Where'd he go?" I turned my head in the direction of her voice;   
slowly starting to head in her direction.   
  
"Oh, I'm still here," came a warbled voice. From what I'd seen   
before, the demon had had blue wrinkly skin and long whiskers   
over its eyes and on its face. It was about my height, and very   
skinny. I didn't know what kind of breed it was. "Isn't this quite   
the cavalry?"  
  
The voice sounded like it was coming from the main bonfire,   
which I, of course, wouldn't be able to get to. I didn't dare open   
my eyes; If I had misjudged the amount of basilisks, then I   
could be no more help than a stone statue--hell, I would *be* a   
stone statue.  
  
"I've got a crossbow," Dana said slowly.   
  
"You can't make that shot," Topps criticized wildly. "The   
chances are way too far out of whack."  
  
"Isn't this funny," the demon laughed. I heard a surplus of   
crackling leaves and even more laughter. "Blind warriors. Blind   
warriors...!" he hummed a nonsense tune. "It sounds like a   
Saturday morning cartoon."  
  
I touched my forehead and felt the ridges of my vampire form. I   
didn't care at the moment. Things were happening too fast. And   
if they were, they only got faster.   
  
"AHH!" I heard Dana's yell and instantly turned in her direction,   
running flat out. I ran smack into Jive from behind and both of   
us toppled head on into a miniature bonfire, rolling safely to the   
sides in a foolish ball of smoking fabric. I heard Jive's breathless   
moan; he wasn't going to be getting up for a while.   
  
"Angel, wait, he's gone, stay where you are!" She shouted a   
second later. I froze; we all froze, our ears cocked for the   
smallest movement.  
  
"What fun," the demon laughed, "This is like eenie meeine   
miney mo."  
  
"AARG!" I heard Topps fall to the ground, rustling with   
something invisible. I stumbled towards him, tripping over his   
struggling form; my axe blade buried itself in the ground and   
my forehead hit the smaller double side. I felt the blood spill   
down over my eyes and nose, but ignored it as I whipped around   
and tried to pry the demon off of my human friend, who had   
stopped moving. Wrestling the attacker away, I noted Topps's   
breath become regulated as well; another warrior out of the   
picture, for now.  
  
The demon obliged much too soon for my liking.   
  
He was on me and we fell backwards, my arm hitting the double   
blade of the axe. The thing clawed at my face and I must have   
bit it once or twice in our catfight; we rolled to the side and the   
embers of a dying fire were suddenly flung into my face.   
  
Somewhere, as if off in the distance, I heard Jive yell, "If you   
kill the master the basilisks go back to their ordinary schedule!   
They'll die if they're out any time besides the full moon! Take   
out their leader and you've got them all!!" his voice was heavy   
and forced.  
  
The demon skirted away from me and I scrambled up to my   
hands and knees. I listened intently, but all I could hear was the   
rhythmic throbbing of Topps' heart and lungs.   
  
The demon hit me from behind--hard.  
  
I felt my head snap back, the sharp downwards jolt in the center   
of my back. My eyes opened involuntarily, not in surprise, but   
in pain as I was shoved downward onto the double side of the   
axe blade.   
  
I felt the cold steel inside of me.   
  
*Missed the heart,* I told myself, again and again, *Missed the   
heart....*  
  
But then I looked up, and in my face I found the startlingly   
mesmerizing golden red eyes of a fully grown male basilisk.  
  
  
******  
  
Dana heard Angel's involuntary scream and her eyes flew open.   
Her surroundings surprised her, but it did not take long before   
she forced herself to get up and sprint across blood-covered dirt   
and basilisk bodies, as well as a few low-burning fires.  
  
But she wasn't fast enough.  
  
She watched the basilisk meet Angel's stare; the lizard began to   
glow a luminous blue color, unnatural in all ways, and a similar   
light began to glow from Angel. Happening only in instants, the   
blue light from the vampire shot out of his body and seeped into   
the already strongly-glowing form of the monster lizard.   
  
And all that was left was a sold stone statue, who moments   
before had been Angel.   
  
"NO!" she screamed, clenching her eyes shut. Her hands clasped   
around a snapped battle pike that had been thrown aside,   
discarded in the fight, and she rushed at the basilisk, driving the   
broken pike into its scull with all the inhuman power she   
possessed.   
  
Then she opened her eyes.   
  
Before here was the demon, smiling with his eyes.   
  
"Admirable," he whispered, and then lunged at her.   
  
She shrieked and fell backwards, landing on hot embers but   
disregarding the pain. She kicked upwards at the being and   
screamed out loud in her attempt to throw it off, but it clung to   
her with long arms and spindly fingers.   
  
The demon breathed into her face and its hands clasped strongly   
around her shoulders. It pulled back quickly, its hand burning,   
and Scully gasped and rolled out of the way.  
  
She rolled into a poorly-placed fire log, and it tore deeply into   
her shoulder; the same shoulder that had thrown off her attacker   
seconds before. Her shirt ripped and she clutched at her arm at   
first, then let the wound until later as she stood up and faced the   
demon again.  
  
"You are a problem," the demon hissed. It charged, its head   
slowly shrinking until it was simply a rounded ball with spikes   
protruding from every which way. Its fingers stabbed towards   
her heart, and she shrieked in rage as she struck out with her   
bare arms in self defense.   
  
There was an ear-piercing scream.  
  
"What?" She heard, and she turned towards it, pausing in her   
counter attack. She looked up at the demon, who was looking   
down at his heart, clutching the cherry-wood stake as it pierced   
through his back and out the front of his body.   
  
"What?" the demon whispered again, and then, in a final gasp,   
exploded in a whirlwind of dust.  
  
Scully looked up, her body tense in fear.   
  
Mulder stood over her, holding the stake in its original position.   
His hair, his clothes were matted with blood; it was splattered   
over his face and mixed with dirt, covering nearly all of him.  
  
He swallowed aimlessly, his eyes wide. His Adam's apple   
bobbed for a moment, before he extended his hand.   
  
They clasped arms and Mulder pulled her to her feet easily, she   
didn't let go of his arm, observing him and taking in the state of   
his clothes and the blood covering him. Before she could ask   
any questions, he said hoarsely, "I killed Baker."  
  
Dana's eyes glistened and she nodded, letting go of his hand.   
She stumbled towards Angel's nonmoving form, not looking   
over her shoulder as Mulder made his way around to check   
Topps and Jive's vitals. She knew that, however it was that   
Baker was dead, they had to know what was happening, or what   
had happened, first.   
  
She knelt next to Angel, his skin and clothing solid stone, and   
she touched the vampiric ridges on his forehead. She shuddered   
at the terror in his eyes, and yet, somehow she refused to believe   
that he could actually be dead.   
  
Staring into the dull, white eyes, "Please, Angel, not now. I don't   
think so. Not today. Not when you're not even sure of yourself.   
Not yet."  
  
Her hand clenched around Angel's thick lower arm and she   
squeezed, touching the side of his face with her other hand.   
"Not. Yet." She growled. "Not yet."  
  
Behind her, Mulder and Jive clasped arms and Mulder pulled   
him to his feet, Jive wobbling on unsteady legs. Topps groaned   
and stood up on his own, holding his slashed stomach with a   
similarly mauled arm, and the three stared at the two vampires   
in terse silence.  
  
*******  
  
When I first 'woke up' again, I saw Dana Scully's blue eyes   
staring straight on into mine. I heard excited yells from Jive and   
Topps, and suddenly Dana's face became tear-streaked with   
relief.   
  
"Thought we'd lost you there for a second," She told me, wiping   
the tears away and biting off a smile. "That basilisk got the   
better of you, I think."  
  
"You were stoned," Mulder put in dryly, and more or less   
unhelpfully. I turned my head to see him; he was covered in   
blood and......dirt. literally covered, like someone had taken a   
vat of blood and dumped it over his head. But I had little time to   
take that in; I still had part of a broken battle axe sticking into   
my torso.   
  
Dana made quick work of the axe, and for the first time I looked   
around our battle scene. Decapitated, and otherwise slain   
basilisks lay strewn around the ring, some tossed   
unceremoniously into the still slowly-burning fire. Topps and   
Jive had sustained injuries, but only minor ones, and whatever   
injury Mulder received had healed over by now. But I looked at   
Dana and I noticed something first off.   
  
I could see the tattooed crucifix on her bicep, and it was   
bleeding. Bleeding--Christ's figure had been punctured at his   
wrists and feet. I locked my eyes on it, then reached out and   
carefully touched the extraordinary wound.   
  
"What--" Dana stopped and observed the image, taking in a   
quick unneeded breath as she did so. I watched her look at her   
arm, and then slowly turn to me.   
  
"Would you call that a sign, Liam?" she said calmly.   
  
"From who?" I shook my head.   
  
"That's the question you've got to ask yourself," she murmured;   
"The demon reacted to my tattoo when he touched it, Angel.   
You did not." She touched my still-morphed forehead and ran a   
hand through my quite-mussed hair.   
  
"You believe what you want to believe," She said quietly.   
  
She slowly stood up, and helped me to my feet, supporting me   
almost completely by herself. I had nearly no energy, most of   
my blood having been lost in my final struggle.   
  
"Where's Baker," I grunted through the pain in my chest. I saw   
Mulder look away.   
  
"We'll deal with that later," Dana murmured to me.   
  
I looked from Jive, to Topps, to Mulder and then to Dana again,   
realizing for the first time that this was it. This......This was   
Angel Investigations.   
  
Cordelia, Wesley....they weren't here. They hadn't been here for   
a long time.   
  
But yet......  
  
This was Angel Investigations. It returned, and even though I   
thought I had closed it up a long time ago, it had struggled its   
way back to me again.   
  
The Fighter. The Scholar. The Soulmates. The Hero.   
  
"Let's go home," Dana said.   
  
We did.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
~ The End ~  
  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Written and thought of by Hardra6  
Contact by Hardra6@yahoo.com, feedback greatly appreciated   
(& worshipped)  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  
Closing: Sorry it took so long! I hope you like it! And, if you   
didn't, I can relate, because I didn't like the plot oh so much,   
either. The next book, though....ahh, the next book......*evil   
grin*.......  
  
I just thought of something that goes for the whole series....I   
don't have a beta reader. That's basically why it takes me so   
long, because I have to go and check all the grammar and stuff.   
Just ignore what I missed, it's not really that important, is it?  
  
Oh, and if that sounded sacrilegious, it wasn't supposed to be.   
The whole crucifix thing was completely unexpected for me. It   
just popped up.   
  
Thanks to Abi for the correct spelling of a certain ring (located   
exactly once in this story,) and Mag; you know who you are.  
  
And a final note: those of you who are wondering what   
happened to Cordelia and Wesley, keep reading. Their story,   
"Recovery" is book five. :)  
  
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*  
  



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